The One and Only Regret
by Ravenclawsome33
Summary: AU. Chloe thinks about her often; maybe too often. Chloe, a former High Note hasn't heard much from Beca Mitchell, a former Bella, for six years. However, seemingly out of the blue, she receives a message loud and clear that Beca hasn't stopped thinking about the redhead either. Rated M for language, drug use, and smut. Bechloe with an eventual background Staubrey.
1. The Riff Off

**Author's Note: So, this is my first attempt at writing** **fanfiction, or basically any kind of creative writing since my high school days. I just love Bechloe too much to passively sit and read anymore. This is loosely based on my own life, and is an alternate universe in which Chloe was a member of the High Notes, rather than the Bellas. If anyone actually reads this, I love you. And please leave comments with any suggestions, constructive criticism, or appreciation (if any).**

 **To give you an idea of where this story is going, as it is not really canon, I will tell you that what I have in mind is just a couple opening chapters where Chloe, Beca, and the gang are still at Barden. The rest of the story will take place much later, once the characters have been out of college for a while and are establishing their lives in their respective occupations.**

 **From my short time on this site, it seems that OCs are not everyone's favorite, but as a new author, I feel I need to expand the universe to try and make this a little easier on myself. Again, please hit me up with comments, suggestions, and thoughts. It would be really cool to hear what people think about this new venture in my life.**

 **With all that being said; here we go!**

Chloe sits with her legs dangling over the side of the empty pool, waiting for the other acapella groups to arrive for their annual ad-lib competition.

"Wanna hit this?" Chloe turns her head to look at the captain of this year's High Notes, Tyler Gump, crookedly holding up his left hand. The herbal scent of the joint invades her nostrils and even from the mere scent, and a sense of calm and even-headedness immediately overcomes her.

"Is that even a question?" Chloe grabs the lit joint from Tyler and brings it to her lips. It's her last year at Barden, and her third year as a High Note, and Chloe still couldn't roll a perfectly cone-shaped joint like her best friend could.

Tyler had willingly tried to teach Chloe whenever she asked him how he accomplished it, but Chloe just couldn't manage to recreate Tyler's perfectly conical joints. Eventually she had given up and just purchased a rolling machine from the smoke shop located just outside Barden's campus.

Just as Chloe inhaled for a second time, she saw out of the corner of her eye that the other acapella groups had started filing into the otherwise deserted pool. After passing the joint to her left to the High Notes' newest star-child, Jessica, Chloe returned her gaze to the incoming aca-people.

In traipsed the BU Harmonics; clad in their signature sweaters tied pretentiously over top of their polos. Next followed the Treblemakers. The High Notes took no part in inter-acapella drama; they generally had more _relaxing_ things on their minds. But even they were aware of the feud that had been brewing amongst the Treblemakers and the group that followed not long after.

The Barden Bellas had always been known throughout Barden's campus to be a no-nonsense, tightly wound institution that did not tolerate any funny business in their group. After their member's infamous fuck-up at last year's national competition, Chloe was _almost_ curious to see what this year's Bellas had in store. But truly, she didn't really care about the competition of acapella. What she loved about it was the music. And that's why she joined the High Notes.

It came as a shock to most that the redhead enjoyed more than her occasional indulgence in marijuana. Chloe knew that her outside appearance projected a girl-next-door innocence, and she used that to her advantage. She managed to maintain a respectable GPA and reputation during her time at Barden, but what most didn't know is that Chloe had been smoking pot regularly since her senior year in high school.

When the Barden Bellas entered the vacant pool, Chloe was genuinely surprised at the group that followed their blonde ringleader. This was nothing like the Bellas that Chloe had seen at previous years' Riff Offs. Chloe picked out an African-American with a hairstyle rarely seen in Georgia. Half of the girl's head was shaved, and the remaining hair was dyed a shocking pink.

The girl that followed next was a tall brunette who, admittedly, resembled most of the Bellas that Chloe had grown to recognize. Even from her distance at the edge of the pool, Chloe could see the girl's voracious expression as her face swept the pool from side to side. One could easily describe the attitude as predatory.

Next came a heavy-set blonde who walked forward with a confidence that Chloe could only envy. She saw the blonde girl turn to speak with someone behind her that Chloe couldn't quite make out from her current position.

"You're up, Firecracker." Chloe turned back to Tyler and knew that her shaggy-haired friend was asking her to return to the smoking ring. She inhaled from the joint that her friend had offered, and was caught up in the conversation that her friends had been engaged in.

"That's why George Martin is such a dick! He knows which characters his fans love and he fucks with them on purpose," Chloe said to those High Notes that were still talking even after the Riff Off had begun.

She vaguely registered Jessica hopping down from the edge of the pool to try and participate in the competition.

 _It must have been love, but it's over right now._ Chloe could only hear playful "Boo's" as Jessica returned to the rest of the High Notes.

"Whatever, it was fun to give it a go," Jessica said as she crouched down and once again flung her legs over the edge of the pool to watch the rest of the competition.

Chloe returned to the intense discussion that was still occurring amongst the High Notes.

"I _know_ that the show just premiered, but at the rate George Martin writes, the show is going to catch up with the books in no time" exclaimed one of Chloe's fellow freshman.

"I know that _too_ , but George Martin has been writing this series since the '90s. He knows his fan base, and he wouldn't just let some show ruin his entire –" Chloe's voice cut off as soon as she heard a sound that she could only compare to an angelic chorus.

 _It's going down fade to Blackstreet_

 _The homies got RB, collab creations_

 _Bump like acne, No doubt_

 _I put it down never slouch_

 _As long as my credit can vouch_

 _A dog couldn't catch me straight up_

 _Tell me who can stop with Dre makin' moves_

 _Attracting honeys like a magnet_

 _Giving them eargasms with my mellow accent_

 _Still moving this flavor_

 _With the homeys Blackstreet and Teddy_

 _The original rump shakers_

 _Shorty get down, good Lord_

 _Baby got 'em open all over town_

 _Strictly biz, she don't play around_

 _Cover much grounds_

 _Got game by the pound_

 _Gettin paid is her forte_

 _Each and every day true player way_

 _I can't get her outta my mind_

 _(Well)_

 _I think about the girl all the time_

 _(Well, well)_

But upon whipping her head towards the source of the sound, Chloe realized that an angelic choir would most likely not be singing No Diggity. No, this was no angelic choir. Well...not a choir at least; just one angel. Even with the calming sensation that the marijuana had instilled in Chloe was no match for the jolt in her heart rate that resulted from the new girl's rap. Chloe's thoughts of Game of Thrones fled to the farthest corners of her mind as she joined the rest of the pool in singing the chorus of the song that the new, mystery Bella had started to lead.

 _I like the way you work it_

 _(No diggity)_

 _I got to bag it up_

 _I like the way you work it_

 _(No diggity)_

 _I got to bag it up_

 _(Bag it up girl)_

 _I like the way you work it_

 _(No diggity)_

 _I got to bag it up_

 _(Bag it up)_

 _I like the way you work it_

 _(No diggity)_

 _I got to bag it up_

 _WE OUT!_

Only a few bars of one song, and her life had been changed forever, even if unbeknownst to Chloe herself.


	2. The After-Party

**Author's Note: Here's another chapter I cooked up today. I really hope you guys like it! I've already gotten a couple reviews, favorites, and follows and I couldn't be more grateful. Please send me your thoughts, concerns, questions,** **queries, and suggestions.**

 *************************Also, as this is my first story, I'm not really sure when to include trigger warnings. I figure, better safe than sorry, so I am going to include a TRIGGER WARNING on this chapter, just in case. There is a brief implication of past sexual assault.**************************************

BECA POV:

Beca had never been one to let herself express her emotions the way that others were able to. She had learned to keep other people at arm's length over years of practice, and she was good at it. But not even she could hold back the joy on her face as the other groups around her joined her in her final lines of No Diggity.

Her face gazed from one corner of the vacant pool to the other. As soon as Beca was finishing her final lines of the song, she caught a glimpse of fiery red hair that bounced along to her rhythm. Her breath caught in her throat as soon as she let out the last notes.

Beca was always one to believe that it's the details that really make any performance special, so she expertly signed off with a " _We Out!"_ As her fellow Bellas crowded around her, the group around the pool gave her an exit full of "Woops!" and cheers. Beca tried to pull her gaze away from the person whose red curls bounced as she talked to her friends, with her back to Beca.

Although the emcee of the event (ironically not a member of any of the acapella groups in attendance), informed them of some bullshit technicality that had cost them the competition, Beca paid him little mind.

Her focus were elsewhere. More specifically, the opposite side of the pool. That red hair had captivated the brunette the moment she saw it. It took everything in Beca not to just blurt out across the pool to the mystery readhead, " _Yo Red, the back of yo' head is ridiculous! Can I have yo' number? Can I!?"_ But Beca managed to come to her senses before her mouth took over. She would've looked like complete idiot before she had even seen the redhead's face, if the girl didn't pick up on Beca's MAD TV reference.

The thoughts that capitalized her mind were brushed away as soon as she heard Aubrey's shrill voice lecturing the Bellas on their loss.

Beca tried to interject with her own thoughts on the impromptu performance her group had managed, but she was quickly shut down.

 _Whatever,_ the brunette thought. She had other thoughts occupying her mind.

Beca snapped back to reality when she heard a sound that could only have been Fat Amy slapping her stomach to command the group's attention. "Let's go aca-bitches! I found me a tree that I'd like to climb. Or, I'd at least like to check out his stump," Fat Amy exclaimed with a wink, accompanied by a rather suggestive pump of her hips.

"Fuck yeah! I love a good after-party. Especially if there will be prey at said party," Stacie replied, pointing to her crotch-al region with both index fingers.

Beca looked from Bella to Bella to gauge their reaction to Amy's suggestion. Everyone seemed to be interested in Amy's proposition, except for Aubrey, that is.

 _God, will this bitch ever lighten up?_

"So is this like, an _aca_ -party or something?" Beca asked, throwing in a hefty dose of sarcasm with her use of the "aca" prefix.

Beca thought she heard something like "The ghosts of Barden past told me they will also be in attendance" slip almost silently from the lips of the Bella's new resident Asian.

"Yes, there is typically an after party thrown after the Riff Off, but I suggest that you all get a good night's sleep so that you're ready for tomorrow's rehearsal. It's an early practice after all," Aubrey threw in quickly.

 _If there's any chance that I can find out who that red hair belongs to, I don't give a shit how early rehearsal is._

"I'm down!"

The rest of the group focused their attention on the small brunette, surprised that she had responded so enthusiastically. It had become clear to the group that, aside from music, Beca Mitchell didn't get particularly excited about any subject. Particularly something that involved crowds of people and drunk acapella kids.

"Well, if short stuff is actually interested in attending then I think we owe it to ourselves to check this thing out." The Bellas switched their focus to Stacie, the source of the comment.

The rest of the group (except for one very irritated blonde), nodded in approval.

"It's settled then! Let's roll." Cynthia Rose yelled as she pointed in the direction of the pool's exit.

* * *

The Bellas arrived at Barden University's amphitheater fashionably late. The party appeared to have been in full swing by the time the Bellas had shown up.

Crowds of people had shown up to the after party, and Beca had a strange feeling in her stomach that this night was going to be a big one. She wanted to convince herself that this night was for the purpose of socializing with other acapella members, just like her father wanted her to do. But deep down, Beca knew that her sole purpose in encouraging the Bella's attendance was the potential to discover the person who sported those flowing red tresses.

Fat Amy immediately went to the plastic tubs and bowls that were filled with all kinds of different liquids. She filled as many cups as she could carry and returned the Bellas. "Drink up pitches!"Amy shouted as she handed the last of the drinks to Beca.

"Alright ladies, before you go and engage in your various forms of debauchery, listen up! Remember we have an early rehearsal. And more importantly, remember the oaths you took. No Treblemakers, or I will bring in the wolves! So don't drink too much. I don't need my night to end in cleaning up anyone's vomit."

"You always know how to get the party started, don't you, oh fearless leader?" Amy replied.

"Yeah, you better take your own advice, Cap. We _all_ know how much you can puke without any alcohol involved. I bet with enough booze you could fill that pool back there," Beca said with a smirk creeping up on her face.

"Nasty," uttered Cynthia Rose with disdain.

"Sounds like fun," whispered Lily.

A chorus of "What?" sounded from the rest of the Bellas, who genuinely hadn't heard what the Asian had said.

At that point, the Bellas had dispersed to mingle with the rest of the acapella members.

Beca found herself an ideal spot near the top of the amphitheater's seating. Not only was it mostly empty, but she also had a bird's eye view of the ongoing party.

 _Any red hair? Doesn't look like it_. _But the night is still early_.

Beca put her attention on the cup she was holding. She dipped two polished nails into the liquid, just as she did with every drink that she was offered at a party. After a couple seconds in the liquid, she withdrew her fingers and watched them intently, grimacing all the while. Her thoughts trailed off to places far away from Barden; places she didn't like to think about. _God, I can't believe I even have to do this. Society is so fucked. Why do we put the burden on the recipient, and not the other way around? But, I guess it's best take every precaution I can, after what happened._ Her nails remained a deep red, with no hint of black appearing on either nail.

Normally, she wouldn't be drinking at all. But tonight, Beca figured that if she was going to be at the party, she should at least try and make it a fun time.

Not to mention that a little liquid courage could probably work in her advantage if she actually managed to find the redhead.

 _Where is she?_

After deciding the drink was safe, Beca readied herself for what was essentially the taste of rubbing alcohol that usually accompanied the cheap liquors college students throw into their "juice".

But after taking a sip, Beca was surprised at how palatable the drink was. It tasted like...apple cider. Beca sensed apples (obviously), and caramel, and, _mmm_ , cinnamon. The only trace of alcohol Beca could find in the drink was a slight warming sensation as the beverage made it's way down her throat and into her stomach. It was actually perfect, considering the slight chill that tended to hang in the nighttime air during the fall in Georgia.

 _Damn this is good_.

Beca spent the next half an hour nursing her red Solo cup. She felt her ears and cheeks warming as she drained the last of the cup's contents.

She was beginning to feel a little awkward just standing there watching the other party goers, panning the crowd for signs of red hair. Maybe it was time for an exit.

 _Well, I looked. If she's not here, she's not here._

Just as Beca turned to make a sly exit from the amphitheater, she felt a solid nudge on her shoulder.

Turning to see the source of the twinge in her shoulder, Beca saw a bright smile she had encountered at the Riff Off earlier that evening. A Treblemaker.

"So, you're a Bella, huh? Well, I'm a Treble, and I think it's only proper that I introduce myself. I'm Jesse."

"Cool." Beca said as she stared at the Treble blankely.

"Aaaand, you are..."

"Beca."

"Beca. BECAW!" Jesse screeched, stumbling slightly to the side, arms opening wide in what Beca assumed was the stance of some kind of bird. Or a raptor, maybe.

"You're really drunk, aren't you?" Beca asked, amused by the boy's antics.

"Nah, I can hold my own. Anyways, you look like you need a fresh cup. You need to be on my level!"

"Well, I was just planning on heading out. I'm not a drinker, really."

"Ah, come on. Stay awhile! I'll even escort you to down and get you a new drink, m'lady," Jesse said as he swooped into a low bow causing to stumble slightly.

Beca chuckled, and gave him a signature Beca Mitchell Smirk.

Beca had to admit that this Jesse guy was entertaining. His bright eyes and genuine smile that he wore despite his clearly less-than-sober state amused Beca. She had to admit, this kid was okay.

 _I don't give a fuck who Aubrey says we can and can't talk to._

"Alright, dude. You've convinced me." Beca chuckled lowly as Jesse turned to head back into the heart of the party.

Beca followed Jesse calmly as he practically hopped down the tiers of the amphitheater. They made their way through the crowds of people, spotting people that Beca recognized along the way.

Fat Amy talked animatedly to Aubrey who, for once, had a smile that didn't simultaneously look like a death glare.

She spotted Stacie chatting with Cynthia Rose, and Beca noticed that Cynthia was basically talking directly to Stacie's boobs, rather than her face. Stacie didn't seem to mind much.

Beca vaguely heard Jesse saying something about "acapella girls" and "acapella boys," but seeing as he was facing away from Beca as he stood at the table getting new drinks, his voice was barely audible to her. She didn't really feel the need to tell Jesse that; she was preoccupied with scoping out the party.

Lily was nowhere to be found, but that wasn't really out of the ordinary. _Who knows, with that girl?_

Looking around again she saw a couple girls talking with each other. Beca was pretty sure they were in the Bellas too, but she wasn't quite positive. She felt a slight twinge of guilt from the realization that there were Bellas that Beca didn't even know.

But when Beca turned her head, that twinge of guilt immediately transformed into a monumental lurch of her stomach. She likened the feeling to missing a bottom step, jumping off a cliff, and riding the Tower of Terror at Disneyworld all at once.

 _Red hair. Shit._

"Sorry, Jesse gotta run!" she practically shouted when she turned back to Jesse. "Thanks for grabbing me more of this cider shit!"

"Wait, Becaw," Jesse screeched as he threw his arms out again, this time bumping them into a number of fellow acapella members, sending their drinks tumbling to the ground. "I was in the middle of telling you about our future aca-children!"

Beca let out a chuckle as she saw the drink-less partygoers glare at Jesse.

She took off before she even responded to Jesse. "Sorry dude, I'll catch up with you! Makes good choices," Beca yelled back at him over her shoulder.

She walked at a hurried pace, all the while trying to avoid the drunken college students that were flailing around her.

When she broke through the edge of the crowd, she practically bounded up the tiers of the amphitheater.

Most of the contents of her freshly filled Solo cup sloshed sloppily onto the cement as she followed the red hair that trailed at the back of the group that was making its way up and out of sight of the amphitheater.

But Beca didn't mind. She just had to find this girl. She didn't even begin to understand why she felt like must. But for once, she didn't question it.


	3. Idiot

**Author's Note: Hi y'all. First, I want to say that I'm so grateful for the reviews, favorites, and follows that you guys have given me. It means so much that you guys are even reading this. I'm also sorry for taking so long to update, I was just really struggling with how I wanted their meeting to go down. But anyways, here's the finished product. I really hope you guys like it. So here we go, with Chapter 3. This is from a Beca POV again.**

* * *

She finally reached the top of the amphitheater steps, very little remaining in her cup. Most of its contents had sloshed over the sides on her trek up the tiers.

 _No sign of the redhead_.

Beca did a complete 360 as she looked for any glimpse of her or her friends. It's like she'd vanished. _How does a group of people just like, disappear? It's not like there are even that many steps. I swear I wasn't_ that _far behind them._ As Beca turned back to head towards the amphitheater, a familiar scent filled her nose. The distinct smell of weed that Beca would recognize anywhere. _Wait, didn't I see her with the High Notes earlier? Coincidence?_ She turned around once more looking for the source of the smell. Nothing.

An idea popped in her head. _Follow the scent._ Duh, she would just follow her nose! Beca walked around slowly and tried to determine where the scent was stronger. She eventually figured out that it was indeed stronger when she had walked to the left of where she had been originally standing. As she slowly walked in that direction, she thought to herself, _Seriously Beca? You're straight up bloodhound-ing it right now? Yeah, you're a regular old drug dog. What are you even doing?_

Beca pushed those thoughts from her mind. Sure, it was a little weird, but if the trail ended in red hair, she figured it was worth it.

Her nose was taking her farther off the path through campus, and to the side of a big brick building she recognized as the science building. _Or is that the nursing building?...Who cares, doesn't matter. Back to the trail._ Beca hadn't explored this area of campus very thoroughly, never having had much of a reason to. She wasn't taking any science classes until next semester, and she sure as hell wasn't going to be a nurse. In fact, she had tried to schedule herself as many music and art classes as she could, granted it wasn't many, considering her first year was going to be filled with mostly general education requirements. So she had stuck to the parts of campus around her dorm, which conveniently included the Dining Hall, the small coffee shop on campus, and the gymnasium. She was all-too familiar with the gym for having only been at Barden a few months, Aubrey had made sure of that.

Behind the science/nursing building lie the beginning of a small wooded area that surrounded this portion of Barden's campus. _Hmm...if I was smoking pot around here, that's definitely where I'd smoke it_. She walked toward the back of the building, and sure enough the smell of the herb grew stronger. _I don't hear anything though. You'd think there'd be some talking..._

She walked along the side of the building and turned right and around the corner of the building. Sure enough, her eyes fell upon a scene that once again had her stomach do a somersault, but not in a good way this time. What she had expected to see was a group of High Notes, standing in a circle in the area between the building and the woods, passing a joint or something. What she had _not_ expected to see was an empty scene except for an exceptionally red haired person up against the brick wall of the building, with a tall, brown haired dude pressed closely to her. His hands cupped either side of the redhead's face, once more obstructing it from view. But she couldn't definitely tell that his lips were on hers.

 _Well, shit._

At least they were too preoccupied and hadn't noticed Beca's arrival. She turned slowly around to leave the scene without attracting the attention of the duo. But much to her dismay, she would not get off that easy. The twigs that had fallen from the line of trees betrayed her.

It all happened pretty fast. Beca heard a crunch, and a few snaps under her foot and scrunched her face in a grimace. _Shit Beca, why didn't you look down you idiot?!_ As she scolded herself in her head, she heard what could only be described as an earsplitting scream that had definitely come from the girl, followed by a low "What the fuck?!" from the dude.

Beca resisted the overwhelming urge to simply bolt. Run, and don't look back. But she figured that that would look absolutely ridiculous and weird. God forbid she ever ran into the redhead again, she would seem like a total freak. _But then again, she didn't see my face, and she doesn't even know who I am_. _I might get away with it_.

As her brain warred with itself, she heard the boy ask the redhead if she was okay, and call after her, "Can we help you?" Beca steeled herself to face the couple.

"I- uh, I'm- I'm sorry I-" Beca mumbled as she turned.

"-startled you." As soon as she completed her turn back towards the couple, she beheld a pair of eyes that were unlike any Beca had ever seen. She felt her jaw drop but couldn't quite manage to form the thought to pick it back up. Her mind was fixated on the eyes in front of her. Even in the dark, and in spite of the short distance between them, Beca could see that they were a shade of the lightest blue. They seemed to glow in the darkness.

 _Oh fuck. First the hair, now the eyes. AND ON THE SAME PERSON?! How is that allowed?!_

"What are you doing?" asked the boy. "We were a little busy."

"Oh..well, I- I was, I smel-, uh" Beca stammered, not even looking at the male. Her eyes were locked with the redhead all the while. _What are you gonna say Beca? "I was creepin' on you earlier and I saw you leave the party so I followed you but then I didn't see you, but I smelled your weed, so I sniffed the trail so I could come and find you and...and what? What were you even going to do when you found her? You dumb fuck, Beca._

"SHORTSTACK!" The sound came from around the corner of the building from whence Beca had made her entrance.

Before she could formulate a reply, Fat Amy whipped around the corner and almost ran right into her.

"Amy?" Beca asked, wondering what in the world could have possessed her to come here right now.

"Amy!" heard the redhead squeal, simultaneously.

"Oh, short stuff, thank Steve Irwin you're alright." Amy huffed to the ground, as she was currently doubled-over, and breathing heavily. "Too much. Vertical. Running." She straightened herself, and looked at Beca. "Why didn't you tell me you were hangin' out with the ginga'?!"

Beca's head made its way from Amy to the redhead and back again. "Y-you two know each other?" Beca asked her fellow Bella.

"Aw, yeah. The ginga' and I go way back, isn't that right Chloe?" Amy said as she looked at the redhead, giving her a not-so-subtle wink.

 _Chloe, huh? That's fitting. She looks like a Chloe. That's a cool name. Better than Beca. There's five zillion Becas in the world. I bet there are far less Chloes. And even fewer Chloes with fantastic red hair and sparkling blue eyes._

"That's right!" exclaimed the redhead, snapping Beca back into reality.

"But I don't think I've had the pleasure of meeting this fine specimen," Amy spoke, looking at the boy and wagging her eyebrows.

"Uh, Tom," he replied, his face appearing slightly-taken aback at Amy's choice of words. "Listen, Chlo," he said as he turned to face the redhead, "I'm just gonna go catch up with the rest of the group. I'll meet up with you later." After planting a quick peck on Chloe's lips, he turned to Beca and Amy and said something like "It was nice meeting you."

But Beca didn't hear him. She was busy in her mind again. She couldn't help but feel tingly and irritated when she saw Tom kiss Chloe. _Am I really jealous right now? I literally just fully laid eyes on this person for the first time. She doesn't even know my name yet. She can kiss whomever she likes._ She couldn't control the way her brow furrowed at the thought. _It'd be nice if it was me though...wait, what? You just met her, Beca! Pull yourself together._

Beca fumbled around for something to say, so she turned to Amy and asked, "What are you doing here, Amy?"

"Well, I was getting' down at the aca-party, then saw you take off like a pack of wild dingoes chasing down a jackrabbit, and I thought you might have gotten sick or something. So I came after you to see if you were alright. Then I saw you walking around in weird circles and figured you must have been pretty drunk or something. I tried to catch up, but those damn stairs bested me. I should have taken that cardio tip more seriously." she muttered the last part, more so to herself than either of the other two standing there. "So I took a breather, but when I looked up you were gone! Then I heard someone scream and I booked it over here as fast as my sexy fat-ass would carry me."

"Riiiight." Beca replied. Amy really was quite a character; there was never a dull moment when she was around.

 _Okay, Beca. You're gonna have to say something now. At least try to make it a full sentence._

She turned her attention away from Amy, to focus on Chloe. Her mind quickly drew a blank as she locked eyes with Chloe's. Chloe had moved closer to the other two girls while Amy had been giving her spiel. Beca got a closer look into those bright blue eyes, and she had to remind herself to open her mouth.

"I'm sorry I scared you. That, uh, wasn't my intention." Beca said, giving Chloe an apologetic look.

 _Two full sentences! Good job, Beca!_

"It's okay! The scream was a little overboard anyway. But we had just smoked a spliff...and it was dark, and with the twigs cracking, and the shadowy figure near the woods, and everything, I dunno, it's silly." Chloe said with a chuckle, using a lot of excited hand gestures all the while. "It was like a brain overload or something. I'm glad you did, anyway. I got to meet the girl who gave Dr. Dre a run for his money earlier. I was thoroughly impressed." Chloe said with the brightest smile Beca thinks she's ever seen.

Seeing that smile put a smile on Beca's own face, and it wasn't even of Beca's own volition. It just...happened. "I'm glad you liked it." Beca replied with a smirk.

"Seriously, shortstack, that No Diggity shit was awesome! Totally crushed it." Fat Amy exclaimed. Beca had almost forgotten Amy was there. "What say we head back to the party then, now that I've confirmed that no one is sick and/or dead?"

"Uh, sure." Beca replied, looking down at the cup she was holding in her hand. The little that had remained in after her journey up the amphitheater steps had gone. Beca assumed it was from the fact that she had jumped about 5 feet in the air when Chloe screamed earlier. "I need some more of that cider stuff anyway."

"You coming, ginga'?" Amy asked the redhead.

"You like it?" Chloe asked Beca, sporting a smirk of her own this time and glancing at Beca's cup, not even so much as looking over at Amy.

"What, the drink? Yeah, it's really good. It's like, you know there's alcohol in it, which is fun, but you don't get the nasty taste like you normally do. Uh, why?" Beca asked genuinely.

"I made it." Chloe replied, once again with that big smile.

 _Of course she made it. The perfect redhead with the perfect hair and perfect eyes made the perfect drink._

"Oh, well, in that case, you've thoroughly impressed me too." Beca said, finally managing to employ the full-on Beca Mitchell Smirk. "You'll have to tell me the secret recipe sometime."

"A mixologist never reveals her secrets." Chloe replied

"I thought that was magicians." Beca quipped, smirk still in place.

"It applies to both. Apparently you missed the memo..." Chloe said, looking at Beca questioningly.

 _Why is she looking at me like that? It's like she's trying to see in my soul with those freaking eyes. She doesn't even know my name. Name! She's looking for your name, you_ "idiot."

Chloe raised an eyebrow and Beca heard Amy guffaw from somewhere beside her.

 _Oh shit. That wasn't in my head, was it? I actually said that out loud. Oh dear lord. Beca Mitchell, you are such a twit. See? You know you're name, where was that a few seconds ago?_

"You mean your name is idiot, or are you calling me an idiot?" Chloe laughed playfully.

"M-my name's not idiot. And you're not an idiot." Beca grumbled, looking fixedly at the ground.

"What is it, then? I figure it's got to be something other than shortstack, short stuff, or, well, idiot." Chloe asked.

"Beca. Mitchell." _There ya go, genius._

"Well, Beca Mitchell. Enjoy the rest of the party. Especially the jiggle juice." Chloe beamed, throwing Beca a wink. "I'm going to go catch up with Tom. I'll see you around, Amy!"

"Later, ginga'!" Amy replied.

The redhead whipped around and bounded off to follow in the direction of her...boyfriend? Beca hoped not. But how could a person like that be single? Beca believed in the stupidity of most of the members of the human race, but if Chloe was single, Beca knew there was something truly wrong with the world.

"What in the name of all that is Tasmanian was that?!" Amy exclaimed, once the redhead was out of sight and earshot.

"What are you talking about?" Beca asked, trying to come off non-chalantly.

"Are you kidding me short stuff? You completely lost your shit! With the stuttering, and the "idiot" debacle, and the staring." Amy asked, eyes wide and arms outstretched.

"Okay, I lost a little bit of my shit. But I did not _completely_ lose my shit." Beca replied, crossing her arms.

Amy scoffed in response. "Whatever you say, _idiot_."

"Oh shut up." Beca said, swatting Amy's arm with one of her own. "Let's just forget about the events of the last few minutes and get back to this aca-mazing party." Beca continued, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Beca was less than excited to return to the party, especially after learning that Chloe would not be there.

"And she's back, ladies and gentlemen!" Amy announced to no one in particular.

And with that, the two began to make their way back to the amphitheater.

The night continued, but Beca's thoughts never strayed far from the red hair and baby blue eyes that had been etched into her brain.

She was in trouble, and she knew it.


	4. Whoomp, There It Is

**Author's Note: Okay y'all. This is where we truly enter AU territory. I'm sorry if you don't like it or if this wasn't what you were hoping for out of this story, but this was the idea that this whole story was based on. It's a little out there, I know, but just go with it.**

 **A HUGE thank you to those who have followed, read, favorited, or reviewed. Especially Glitter, who left a review that made me excited about continuing this story.**

 **As always...love, hate, and everything in between is appreciated it. I'm just curious about what you guys think. Just let me know!**

* * *

 **Six years later**

Beca sat on the couch across from her best friend, in the living room of her Los Angeles apartment. She was leaning back, with her face in her hands, and one knee bouncing rapidly. Normally, she'd be running her hands through her hair when this amount of anxiety was coursing through her, but she knew better than to mess up the perfect waves that her stylist had managed to achieve.

"I just feel like I need to do this Jesse," she said, her voice muffled slightly as she spoke from behind her hands.

"Beca, you really think this is a good idea?" he asked imploringly.

"Have I missed the past six years of our friendship, or aren't _you_ the one who talks non-stop about the romanticism in the movie universe that is lacking in the real world, and grand gestures that are practically straight out of a John Hughes movie and all that?" Beca snapped back.

"I do love grand gestures, but Becs, this is like, as grand as they get. This is beyond grand. This is like, mega-grand. I care about you, and I just wanted to make sure that you've thought about this and you have considered all of the ways that it might turn out. I'm talking to you as your best friend and your manager. It might turn out really well for you, but there's a chance that it might not work out. And you have to prepare for both outcomes," Jesse said calmly, as he placed a hand gently on Beca's bouncing knee, causing it to slow its pace and finally stop moving.

 _If Jesse, ever the optimist, is telling me to re-evaluate then I must be crazy._

 _But I've gotta do this. I'm done playing it safe. It's time to sack up._

"I appreciate your concern Jess, I really do. And I know it sounds crazy, and hell, it is crazy. But that's why I need to do it. It's hard to explain. And besides, she deserves mega-grand," Beca offered with a mischievous smile.

Jesse couldn't do anything but shrug his shoulders and give his best friend a smile in return. He knew that smile Beca was wearing. It didn't show up often, but when it did, she always managed to somehow accomplish whatever it was that she set out to do; nerves and all.

"Whatever you say Becs. Listen, it's almost time. You don't want to be late to the party, and the driver should be here any minute," Jesse said as he stood up from the chaise he'd been sitting on, and straightened out the new Brooks Brothers suit that he'd had specially tailored in preparation for this event.

He was met with a grumble as Beca also rose from her seat.

"Ah, come on Becaw...it's not every day you get to go to your first GRAMMYs! And as a nominee, no less," nudging her with his elbow, playfully. "But seriously, look amazing and the people are going to love you!"

Beca looked down at the get up that she had on. Her stylist had tried to push her into wearing a number of different gowns and dresses, but Beca had flatly refused. She had always felt more awkward and weird than she normally did the few times she'd worn a dress, and so she hadn't worn one since one of her more disastrous attempts at going to school dances in junior high.

So, instead of a gown, her stylist offered a look that was more up Beca's alley. She had donned Beca in Armani; a crisp, white collared shirt tucked gracefully into the black, straight-legged tuxedo pants that stopped just above her ankle. After fitting Beca into the single button black jacket that accompanied the pants, she had finished off the outfit with a pair of black and white pumps which resembled a man's oxford shoe, aside from the 3 or 4-inch heels that were attached to the back. The stylist had been all worked up about the designer who'd offered up the shoes for free in exchange for the publicity that would result from Beca's appearance in them. Beca hadn't given two shits about Blahnik or whoever it was, but she did have to admit that she liked the tuxedo vibe that the pumps added to her look.

It was a long way from Beca's every day outfit, especially given the fact that she'd been instructed to leave the top few buttons of the button-down open to allow much more cleavage exposure than she'd ever been used to. _If this is the price to pay for having made it this far, I guess that's fair enough_ , Beca convinced herself.

A knock on the door signaling their driver's arrival broke her from her thoughts.

"Alright then. Let's do this thing." Beca said, as she stepped out the door and into the limo with a bold determination.

Beca's nerves grew more pronounced as she and Jesse sat in the back of the limousine, while the driver struggled to make his way through downtown, fighting against the never-ending onslaught of LA traffic. As they neared the Staples Center, the streets were a-buzz with excitement.

The limo rolled to a stop in front of a long red carpet which was flanked on either side by crowds of fans and photographers. She turned to Jesse with a look he could only describe as unadulterated fear. He chuckled at seeing such a foreign emotion on his friend's face.

"You can do this Becs. You're Beca fuckin' Mitchell! The big BM! You ready?" he asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Beca replied uncertainly.

Jesse exited the limo first, so as to turn and offer his hand to Beca and help her out of the car.

As Beca's face emerged from the limousine, bright flashes took over her vision and shrill screams filled her ears. The overwhelming sensations took Beca by surprise, causing her to stumble a little on her way out of the car.

 _Awesome, Beca. Even with Jesse's help you can't get out of a car without making a fool out of yourself. Great way to make an entrance._

Beca could feel that a look of bewilderment sat on her face, and she straightened herself out in an attempt to regain her composure. She turned to Jesse, who offered her his arm with an encouraging look on his face. She took it gratefully, and two began their march up the carpet.

The blinding flashes, continued, and the screams failed to cease. After a few moments, her senses began to become accustomed to the crazed atmosphere, and she looked from side to side. Photographers and journalists were throwing questions at her from all angles.

"Beca! Who are you wearing?!"

"Beca, are you expecting your first big win tonight?"

"Ms. Mitchell, is this young man here with you tonight your boyfriend?"

Beca had to give a chuckle at that last one. _In his dreams_! Without giving any of them an answer, and only offering them her signature smirk, she turned to the fans that amassed behind the rails that ran along the carpet.

She looked over to her right, and picked out a group of teenagers that were holding a "Beca, Will You Marry One Of Us Or At Least Give Us Your Autograph?" sign. She appreciated the humor of the sign and strode over to them, earning a fresh round of shrieks from the fans surrounding them.

"Hey guys. I'm sorry, but I already have my sights set on a very special person already," giving the teens a playful wink, "but I can definitely help you out as far as signatures go," Beca said with a genuine smile. She loved interacting with fans. Not long ago she'd been in their shoes. Granted, she'd never been a crazed fan that held signs or anything...but the awe that she had felt when her career began to take off and she'd finally gotten to meet some of the people that inspired her for years was something she'd never forget. This was her favorite part of her job.

A girl who couldn't have been more than sixteen stood at the front of the rail, with her arm outstretched towards Beca, holding something in her hand. Beca took it, and looked at the object the girl handed to her. She found herself looking at a worn a copy of one of Beca's first E.P.'s. "Wow, a fan from the very beginning? I appreciate that more than you know! What's your name, dude?"

Just as the girl opened her mouth to tell Beca her name, the screams from the rest of the fans intensified ten-fold, and Beca assumed another limousine had just pulled up.

"Come again, kiddo?" Beca asked leaning closer to the girl.

"It's Chloe!" the girl responded, practically screaming at this point.

Beca instinctively whipped around, looking behind her for any sign of red hair or azure eyes. No such redhead.

 _She meant her name is Chloe, dumbass. Not that she sees her._

Turning back to the girl, she said, "I'm sorry. I just...nevermind. Chloe, huh? That's a special name reserved for special people." She signed the CD that the girl had given her: **To Chloe, No dream is too big; never stop chasing them. Beca Mitchell**.

Satisfied with her work, she handed the CD back to the girl, whose eyes were the size of dinner plates. She smiled at the girl, and moved on to sign a few more CDs, and even a couple limbs. After handing out more than a few fist bumps and high fives, she heard Jesse's voice saying, "Come on, Beca. You're needed for pictures."

"Sorry, guys, lot's of very important photos to take!" she said, scrunching her face like she'd smelled something bad, to reflect her desire to stay and play.

As Jesse led her to the backdrop where she could see a line of celebrities posing for the photographers, she thought back to her encounter with fan-Chloe. _What are the chances? You've been looking for a sign, Beca. That's as good a sign as any._

When Beca was finally led in front of the backdrop, she chose to adopt the Beca Mitchell Smirk rather than give a full on smile to the cameras. She'd been in front of enough backdrops like this to know that if she tried to smile for all of them, her cheeks would begin to hurt and the smile would turn into a grimace. She dragged Jesse along beside her, and the two began their way down the line. She took most pictures with Jesse, but obliged a few photographers who wanted her pictured alone.

After a non-descript amount of time, which felt like ages to Beca, she was done with what she considered the most annoying aspect of her job.

 _I don't even really get these red-carpet pictures. It's the same people every time, posing the same way, only dressed in different outfits._

She and Jesse finally made their way into the interior of the Staples Center, but the noise was no less deafening. There were people milling about in all directions. There were some faces that she recognized from her few years in the industry, but most she didn't know.

She and Jesse found an area that seemed to be relatively void of people, and simply stood, taking in the sights around her. She saw people with mics on their heads, bustling around getting everything in order for the night. She recognized the faces of a few celebrities that passed in front of her. _Holy shit, is that Beyonce!? Look away! Not worthy!_

After a few moments, she felt a nudge on her shoulder, and turned to discover its source. She was met with flaming red hair...orange hair, really...and a bright smile that belonged to Paramore front-woman Hayley Williams. "Look who it is! Welcome to your first GRAMMYs!"

"Hey, Hayley," Beca replied, simultaneously letting out a whoosh of air from her lungs. She was secretly thankful that it was her friend that had sought her out, and not another freakin' photographer. "This is something else. How do you do this all the time?"

"It gets easier each time, no worries. Besides, you better get used to it! Especially if you bring home a win tonight. Which I'm sureee you will. I mean, come on, the album was a major success thanks to you." Hayley said, giving Beca's upper arm a light squeeze.

"Nonsense, there'd have been nothing to produce without your guys' music!" Beca replied with a smirk. She knew that a large part of the reason she was nominated for this award was the work that she'd done on the band's newest album.

"Well, either way, I'm excited to see you give that acceptance speech later. I've gotta take off. I think this shindig is about to start for real, and I've got to go find the boys. I'll see you at the after party! Bye Jesse!"

Beca and Jesse said their goodbyes, and made their way to their seats. Beca had always imagined what it would be like to be here. At the GRAMMYs. In a room with the biggest names in music. It was almost surreal.

The awards show started, and Beca sat back as award after award was given. And at last, her time was up. Ed Sheeran, and some actress Beca didn't know took the stage to present the next award. She didn't exactly catch what they were saying, as Beca's mind began to race. She was thinking about all the possible outcomes of the next minute or two.

On one hand, she could _not_ be named the winner. And though Beca would be disappointed, she would still be completely content to sit back and support the winner. After all, this was her first nomination, and she was up against some seriously seasoned producers. She was grateful to have even been considered.

On the other hand, she might actually hear her name being called. And then she would have to make her way up to the stage, and accept the award. Beca had always felt comfortable on the stage. But that was when she was in her element; performing. Getting up in front of this group of people, and the millions who would undoubtedly be watching at home, and _speaking_ was something else entirely. And then Beca considered that pact that she had made for herself in the event that she actually did win.

 _Should I seriously go through with it? I could be, no, WOULD be subjecting myself to potential nationwide embarrassment. But if it worked, it would absolutely worth it._

And then she heard it. Ed Sheeran's voice loud and clear in her mind "-winner is...BECA MITCHELL!" Apparently she had missed the entirety of the presentation as her mind was running wild. She turned to Jesse who gave her the biggest smile she'd ever seen on his goofy face.

"You did it, Becs! You won!" he said, excitedly.

"I w-won?" she asked him, genuinely confused. Her confusion dissipated as she felt spotlights find their way to her, and heads around the room turned in her direction offering whistles and applause. A cameraman made his way up the aisle to focus on her.

 _Oh fuck. I did it._

Beca stood, and Jesse followed suit. He embraced her in a tight hug and spoke in her ear softly enough that no one would hear, "I'm so proud of you Beca, I'll be here for you, either way." It was as if he knew the thoughts and doubts that ran through her mind moments earlier.

She grinned at him and made her way up the aisle, towards the waiting presenters.

 _This is it, Beca. It's now or never._

After taking the steps up to the stage very carefully, in an effort not to repeat the stumble that had occurred on her way out of the limo, she accepted the record player-shaped statute from Ed's hand, and gave a light kiss to the cheek of both Ed and the unknown actress. They stepped away from her, and Ed gestured to the microphone.

Beca turned to the audience and assumed her place at the mic. Looking out across the room, she cleared her throat and began her speech.

"Uh, hi. I honestly am in shock that I'm up here right now. I am so honored to have been placed among a group of such talented individuals, and would like to thank each of them for having inspired me for so long. I'd like to thank like, every person who has gotten me to where I am right now. Jesse, my best friend and manager. You've been with me since day one and I wish I could explain how grateful I am for everything you've done for me. Uh, my agent, all of the artists that I've had the pleasure of working with, and especially the fans! And to the fans, I say thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support. I just want to tell you guys that with passion, dedication, and the right support system, you can achieve anything you put your mind to. I am a testament to that. I've managed to make almost every dream I've had a reality. I learned how to mix music. I got myself through college. I moved to Los Angeles to pursue this crazy dream of becoming a producer and winning GRAMMYs. And here I am. Unfortunately there's one dream that I never let myself pursue because of my own fear. So I stand before you today, to be an example. An example of someone who doesn't let their insecurities stand in the way of their dreams. And with that, I've got one person left to thank; the first person to ever hear music that I created, and the first to encourage me to follow my dreams. You gave me confidence in myself, and I don't think you even realize you did."

Beca looked straight into the camera that she knew was feeding into homes across America.

"So what I'm really trying to say is, Chloe Beale, will you go on a date with me?"

 _Whoomp, there it is._

The audience was silent for a moment, as if they were trying to understand what had just happened. Beca saw a few heads turn to whisper to their neighbors. _Oh shit, I fucked up._ And then a round of thunderous applause and cheers rang out throughout the room. Beca couldn't help the wild grin that appeared on her face.

The background music started, acknowledging that the speech had come to an end, and that Beca was to leave the stage.

She turned and headed to the wings.

 _Well, Beca. You either just made the smartest or most terrible decision of your life. But you did it, just like you always said you would._

* * *

Back in New York, Chloe Beale had just plopped down on her couch wearing yoga pants and a broken-in Barden University hoodie, settling in for a comfortable night of GRAMMY-watching. On her table was a freshly popped bag of popcorn, and a bowl waiting to be filled with the marijuana she had stashed away in her pocket.

Chloe never missed these awards shows, but tonight's was special. Beca had been nominated for the Producer of the Year, Non-Classical GRAMMY. She hadn't spoken to Beca in a long while, _She probably doesn't even remember who I am at this point_ , but there was no way she was going to miss what Chloe figured would be the first of many awards for her old friend.

During a commercial break, Chloe reached into her pocket and pulled out the small bag of weed that had been stationed there. She put a sizable nug in the grinder that had sat alongside the bowl, and twisted it back and forth, breaking up the dense herb. She packed the bowl with a hefty pinch of the marijuana, and brought the bowl to her lips. She lit it and heard the familiar crackle of the herbs as they burned.

The award show came back on her television, and since the weed in her bowl had turned to ash, she set it back down on the coffee table, retrieving the bag of popcorn that sat there.

As the show came back on air, she leaned back and got reacquainted with her previous position on the couch. A live performance and a few awards later, Chloe saw Ed Sheeran and Shailene Woodley appear on the stage to present the next award.

"The time has come to present this year's nominees for Producer of the Year, Non-Classical." said Ed Sheeran, looking into the camera.

 _Ahhhh, this is it! Let's go, Becs!_

As Shailene Woodley took over the mic, she spoke, "For their outstanding accomplishments in music production this year: Paul Epworth," the camera panned over the producer, a young man who has seemingly gone gray a little early. But it worked for him.

"...John Hill..." Woodley said, as the camera made its way to the redhead, much like Chloe herself.

"...Jay Joyce..." she continued, as the camera found a man who looked to be quite a bit older than the rest.

"...Greg Kurstin..." Woodley said, the camera again finding a man who also looked to have at least 20 years on Beca.

"...and Beca Mitchell," she finished. The camera landed on the small brunette. Chloe's heart rate jumped a little at the sight of the young producer, but that was a sensation that Chloe was so familiar with that it didn't even phase her anymore.

 _But, damn, she looks good. The years have treated her well, indeed._

There was an unreadable expression on the Beca's face. Almost as if she didn't even register what was happening around her.

"And this year's winner is..." Ed said, returning to the microphone.

 _Always dragging out the pause for dramatic effect_.

"...BECA MITCHELL!" he finished, a wide smile on his face.

 _Oh fuck. She did it._

Chloe let out a squeal of happiness, even though there was no one in her apartment to share in her joy.

She watched as Beca stood, apparently shell-shocked that she had managed to win. Chloe knew she would. She knew Beca would be winning GRAMMYs from the first time she heard Beca's early mixes, and she hadn't let it go unknown to Beca that she felt that way.

 _I knew it! That girl, man. Always so insecure about her talent. Someone without ears would still be able to hear how talented she is._

She watched as Beca made her way to the stage. A flare of heat erupted in her as she fully took in Beca's attire.

 _Hot damn. That suit, and those shoes. Wait, stop it, Chloe! You need to stop pining. It's been too long and Beca's a celebrity now. She probably has girls throwing themselves at her left and right_.

Beca finally took over the mic and Chloe left the battle in her brain to bring her attention to the brunette speaking into the mic.

"...honestly am in shock that I'm up here right now. I am so honored to have been placed among a group of such talented individuals, and would like to thank each of them for having inspired me for so long," she heard Beca speak from somewhere thousand of miles away.

 _Always the humble one._ It was a trait Chloe admired in Beca.

"...I'd like to thank like, every person who has gotten me to where I am right now. Jesse, my best friend and manager. You've been with me since day one and I wish I could explain how grateful I am for everything you've done for me." Chloe couldn't help but feel slightly jealous of the fact that Jesse had gotten to go through this journey with Beca. But on the other hand, she was glad that Beca had a true friend that she was able to trust in, given the vicious and competitive atmosphere that the music industry entailed.

"...Uh, my agent, all of the artists that I've had the pleasure of working with, and especially the fans! And to the fans, I say thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support. I just want to tell you guys that with passion, dedication, and the right support system, you can achieve anything you put your mind to. I am a testament to that. I've managed to make almost every dream I've had a reality. I learned how to mix music. I got myself through college. I moved to Los Angeles to pursue this crazy dream of becoming a producer and winning GRAMMYs. And here I am," came Beca's voice, from inside the TV. Chloe smiled at this. From all the online creeping that she had done, and she had done a lot (though she would never outwardly admit it), she'd figured out that Beca loves her fans. She had always found a way to connect with them on a personal level and Chloe found that so endearing. There were too many reports on celebrities who seemed to view their fans as more of a nuisance than anything else.

Figuring that was the end of Beca's speech, Chloe looked on the couch next to her to find her phone and text her best friend to find out if she, too, had seen their old friend on TV.

But Beca's voice interrupted her thoughts, and she once again drew her attention to the television. "Unfortunately there's one dream that I never let myself pursue because of my own fear. So I stand before you today, to be an example. An example of someone who doesn't let their insecurities stand in the way of their dreams. _This doesn't seem to fit into a typical acceptance speech_ , Chloe thought, her brow furrowing.

"And with that, I've got one person left to thank; the first person to ever hear music that I created, and the first to encourage me to follow my dreams. You gave me confidence in myself, and I don't think you even realize you did." _Whoa, whoa, whoa, that little weasel! She told me I was the first person her ever let hear her mixes! What a load of..._

"So what I'm really trying to say is, Chloe Beale, will you go on a date with me?"

Chloe didn't react for a few seconds; she couldn't. After a moment, she grabbed her remote and rewound the playback a few seconds to make sure she had heard correctly.

Turning the volume up by ten notches, she pressed play and heard, "So what I'm really trying to say is, Chloe Beale, will you go on a date with me?"

Chloe's jaw dropped to the floor, and the bag of popcorn she was holding fell right along with it.

 _What. The. Fuck._

 _This is some sick joke the universe is playing on me, right? No. No way. People don't just do that on live national television. Especially not Beca Mitchell. Especially not to Chloe Beale._

 _Oh that's it. There's got to be some other Chloe Beale in the world! There ya go. Something that makes sense._

Beca had finally left the stage, and not without Chloe noticing the grin that she wore as she made her way to the wings.

The sound of the Game of Thrones ringtone that blasted from Chloe's phone brought her back to reality.

She was grateful at the name that flashed across the screen.

Swiping her thumb across the face of the phone, she immediately brought it to her ear.

"Bree? Please tell me you saw that."

* * *

 **Another Author's Note: Do not fret, we have not seen the last of college time Beca and Chloe. Those moments will come in the form of flashbacks and what not. I also plan to bring in the other characters from the Pitch Perfect universe soon. So...yeah.**

 **Also, I'm not really sure how long is too long for a single chapter, so let me know if you guys think this is too much in one go. It just seemed to make sense to present both points of view in this situation.**

 **That is all.**


	5. What Do I Do?

**A/N: Hey guys, sorry for how long it's taken me to update. First, there's writer's block. Second, reading other stories that I love has made me feel a little intimidated, to be honest. This whole writing thing is much harder than I ever imagined, and I give serious props to any other authors out there. But, I must say that the reviews that you guys have sent me encouraged me to continue on with this thing. So I hope I've come up with something that you like.**

 **Thank you to anyone reading, following, favoriting, and/or reviewing. Please send me any thoughts or suggestions that y'all may have. Getting reviews seriously makes my day! Without further ado, here's Chapter 5.**

* * *

"Bree, please tell me you saw that."

"Damn right I saw that. I'm coming over."

No more than 45 minutes later, most of which Chloe spent trying to find an explanation for what she just saw, three firm knocks on the door sounded Aubrey's arrival at Chloe's apartment. Before Chloe even had an opportunity to greet her friend, Aubrey strode through the entryway and proceeded directly to the kitchen without so much as a "hello."

Chloe followed her into the kitchen and found the blonde wordlessly gathering two bowls, two spoons. Chloe looked to the counter and noticed a container of peanut butter and chocolate ice cream. It was only after she saw Aubrey rip two paper towels from the roll sitting on the counter that she spoke up.

"You know me too well, Bree."

The blonde turned to her with her brows furrowed, "I can't help it if _you_ can't help but eat ice cream like a toddler. The need for paper towels is an inevitability."

Chloe let out a chuckle, even though she wasn't speaking specifically about the paper towels. Chloe was thankful to have a friend who knew what she needed without her having to voice it. Ice cream nights had become somewhat of an unspoken "thing" between the two friends. Whenever either girl was going through a tough breakup, had a bad day at the office, or was simply down in the dumps, the other would show up with a tub of ice cream and comforting words. This time happened to be Aubrey's turn. She knew that Chloe wasn't particularly sad about what transpired earlier, but she knew that Chloe would need companionship.

And if she knew Chloe at all, which she did, she knew that Chloe had probably been spending her evening smoking that...stuff. Though she didn't like this particular extracurricular activity of Chloe's, she knew that Chloe wasn't in any real danger from the stuff. Being more of a softy than she would ever admit, she brought Chloe's favorite ice cream to satisfy the redhead's munchies.

But more than anything, Aubrey knew she'd need to bring out the big guns, given the information that she was going to deliver to her friend tonight.

The two relocated to the living room and set on the couch with their legs crossed, facing each other. Chloe took a spoonful of her ice cream, and let out a satisfied groan at her favorite combination of flavors. Aubrey sat still, watching Chloe with an expectant look, waiting for her friend to speak.

"It can't be me right? I haven't even talked to her in years," Chloe spoke, through a mouthful of ice cream.

"Don't be thick Chlo. Did you hear that speech? Of course it's you. First of all, how many Chloe Beales do you think she knows? And secondly, you told me that you were the first person that ever heard her music. We both know how sacred Beca's music is to her. I seriously doubt she'd lie about something like that. Third of all, the hobbit's little infatuation with you was not much of a secret. You know how Barden was as much as I do. Secrets didn't stay secrets for more than ten minutes."

Chloe considered her words for a few moments before responding.

"Well...First, Beale is probably a common name. Think of how many new people that she must have met since her career started taking off. There could easily be another Chloe Beale." Chloe knew it was a stretch, she herself had only met a few other Beales in her life. And even fewer Chloes.

"Second," she continued, " even though she did tell me I was the first to hear her music, she could have been talking about like, the first person she let listen to her mixes in a professional capacity." Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, Chloe knew that this was also a stretch. From the interactions between the two those years ago, Chloe had come to understand that Beca's music was something very personal and private at the time. Sharing it with someone must have been a very significant thing for her to do.

"And as to her alleged...interest...in me, I got that information from Fat Amy. Anything that comes out of that girl's mouth should be taken with a grain of salt. I mean, seriously, how does someone simultaneously wrestle dingoes and croco-"

Aubrey could tell from the way that Chloe began waving around her spoon as she talked that she was going to ramble and end up off topic.

"Stop it," Aubrey said with a firm tone, bringing up a hand to cut her off, causing Chloe's eyebrows to raise in surprise. "I don't understand you. Beca made herself crystal clear, in _the_ most obvious way, and yet you still won't acknowledge it for what it is. And that's without acknowledging the fact that she was painfully obvious about way back in college. I know you and I weren't friends when we were at Barden, but I spent enough time around Beca and the other Bellas to know that she had a serious thing for you. That's a fact. I just don't get it. It's like, you try to imagine the worst possible outcome out of any situation, and assume that is what's going to happen."

Chloe opened her mouth to argue, but Aubrey steamrolled along and continued with her tirade.

"Let me finish. We are adults now, Chloe. Like, real adults. Don't you finally want to live a life where you actually go after what you want, instead of sitting back and watching everyone around you live their lives because you're scared of what might happen if you try and end up failing? That's no way to live."

Chloe took a few deep breaths and closed her eyes as she felt them begin to water. Aubrey was harsh, but she was right. Chloe had settled; she always had. Well, not always.

From her early childhood through high school, Chloe had what she considered a near-perfect life. Everything came easily to her. She was naturally smart, and had been near the top of her class year after years without much effort at all, and had even won state and national accolades for various essays and academic acheivements. She was athletic and had been the captain of her school's tennis team and was a leading goal scorer for the soccer team, far out-scoring even some players on the boy's team. She was also musically gifted. Again, it had come easily to her. She'd been given the lead in many of the school musicals, won her school's talent show two years in a row for her vocal performances, and had natural talent for the piano and violin.

But near the end of her high school career, something in Chloe changed. She'd been used to doing well without putting forth much effort at all. Her parents were extremely proud of their daughter, and her friends had come to expect the redhead to succeed in anything she tried. When Chloe thought of colleges and the future, Chloe began to think that she had succeeded so easily because she was a big fish in a small pond. At the thought of being a small fish in a big pond, insecurities and anxieties that Chloe had never experienced before emerged within her.

So college rolled around, and Chloe had begun to settle. She put in only enough effort to get by. A's disappeared from her transcripts, and she settled for B's and B-Minuses. She settled for being an observer rather than a participant in any collegiate athletics. She settled for an acapella group that barely attempted any music instead of auditioning for one that strived to be champions. When graduation approached, Chloe decided to pursue law school, but even then, she settled for an average score on the Law School Admissions Test. Aubrey was right, she'd been settling for years. Chloe had been scared of trying, for fear that she would be inadequate or mediocre. As she reflected, something clicked within Chloe.

 _I've been so fixated on refusing to fail and being forced realize that I am only mediocre, that I've let myself become mediocre on purpose. As if that would be easier than hearing someone else tell me that._

In that moment, Chloe was so grateful that she had Aubrey in her life. Ever since they met during their senior year at a meeting for students intending to go to law school, Aubrey had grown to be Chloe's closest friend. Aubrey's inclination for perfection had balanced out Chloe's easy-going attitude. After realizing they would both be attending law schools in the same city, the two decide to rent an apartment together, both understanding that having someone familiar to go through this experience with would be better than trying to get through it alone. Throughout law school and the years after, Aubrey gave Chloe the push that she needed to make it through school, pass the bar, and even land a job. Somehow, Aubrey just knew her. And now, Aubrey had given her the talking-to that she didn't know she needed. Chloe silently vowed to follow her friend's advice and make a change.

After a few minutes of silence, Chloe finally opened her eyes and spoke up. "So what do I do?"

"You take a risk. Beca sure did, and now it's your turn."

Chloe sighed, "I know, but I mean specifics. How exactly does one respond to a request for a date over nationwide television?" Chloe glanced down at Aubrey's bowl and saw that the ice cream has melted into an ice cream soup. "And you haven't even touched your ice cream. That's a waste of perfectly good peanut butter and chocolate. You should be ashamed."

Aubrey took in a deep breath, refusing to look in Chloe's eyes. "That's the thing...I may have something to tell you that may uh, help, the situation, if you think about it in the right light."

Chloe looked at her friend with a questioning glare, "What did you do, Bree?"

"Whoa, don't shoot me, I'm just the messenger," Aubrey responded, finally meeting Chloe's eyes.

"Bree."

"Well, yesterday I may have overheard the partners saying that you've been assigned one of the firms, uh, new clients," she said in a quiet tone, once again looking everywhere but at Chloe.

"Who?"

"A music producer whose manager has apparently been looking for a firm that can handle clients with the producer's rising...stature." Aubrey gave herself an internal high-five at the "stature" comment.

"Which producer?"

"Three guesses."

Chloe didn't need one guess, let alone three. Aubrey's expression said everything Chloe needed to hear. "No fucking way."

"Yeahhhhh."

"So what the fuck do I do," Chloe exclaimed running her hands through her hair.

"Well, I'd say the best course of action would be to contact the manager himself, first."

"Jesse? How do I do that, I don't have his number or anything," Chloe asked.

"Well, I may or may not have abused my access to said partners' emails and gathered Jesse's contact info," Aubrey responded with another sheepish glance.

"Bree, you scoundrel!" Chloe said, surprised that her friend who followed all rules, _particularly_ in the workplace, had done such a risky thing for her. "Well, I guess that's as good as start as any."

Aubrey opened her a note on her phone and handed it to Chloe so that the redhead to put Jesse's number and email in her own phone.

Although Chloe wanted to contact Jesse as soon as possible, in a first effort to take advantage of the wisdom that Aubrey had recently imparted, she decided that she would let Beca and Jesse enjoy whatever after parties that the two were undoubtedly going to attend.

Chloe and Aubrey spent the rest of the night continuing to eat the ice cream that Aubrey brought, watching trashy reality TV, and talking about anything and everything that didn't involve Beca. Aubrey fell asleep on the couch, bowl of ice cream still in her hands, and Chloe resigned to her bedroom. Sleep did not come easily to the redhead that night. In fact, it didn't come at all. Without Aubrey's distractions, Chloe lay awake, her mind rampant with thoughts of Beca Mitchell. Her unrequited love, and apparently, her newest client.

8 AM finally rolled around, and Chloe decided it would be respectable (and not at all frantic) to send a text to Jesse, ignoring the fact that it would only be 5 AM in Los Angeles.

So she pulled out her phone, and tried to compose a message that was a good balance between friendly and professional. After coming up with something that seemed good enough, she took the plunge and pressed send.

* * *

The alarm sounding from Beca's phone abruptly brought the brunette back from the realms of the deepest sleep.

She enjoyed a split second of peace, until she felt an intense throb in her head, and a churn of her stomach.

 _Trash can. Fast_.

Fortunately, Beca needed only to open her eyes and turn her head to see her chrome trash can sitting next to her as she lay on the... _couch?_

Lifting her head slightly (which brought on a fresh throb to her brain), she saw Jesse sleeping soundly on his stomach atop the chaise lounge which was situated directly beyond the coffee table. Of course the two drunk idiots hadn't taken their size differences into account before collapsing onto the first flat object they'd encountered which wasn't well...the floor. She first took in her best friend's appearance; it seemed that he had only managed to remove his shoes and suit jacket, and had moved his suspenders from his shoulders so that they now just dangled from his waist. She then glanced down her own body to see that she, too, had also only managed to remove her shoes and suit jacket. And while she had no suspenders to move, she had, in fact, unbuttoned and unzipped her pants to make for a more comfortable sleeping condition.

 _Either way, good job Drunk Beca. Ten points to Hufflepuff_!

Yes, the brunette considered herself a Hufflepuff. Sure, she certainly the most sociable of people, but every house has their outliers, right? Despite her gruff exterior, she had always felt a connection with the much-maligned house. She harbored unwavering loyalty to the people she considered her friends, and once Beca had found her passion in making music, she dedicated 110% to working her hardest and doing the best she could to become the best music producer she could be. Not to mention that the mascot is a badger. How much more bad-ass can you get?

Not yet feeling the need to make use of the trash can that she assumed she'd placed there sometime during the night, Beca intended to let sleep take her again. But the hand that she had let drop over the side of the couch bumped into something that had been sitting on the floor. Shifting slightly, she saw a water bottle laying sideways on the hardwood floor, and two Advil underneath it, magnified through the liquid.

 _Fuck yeah. Ten more points to Hufflepuff_.

Beca took her time in hoisting herself into a sitting position, before bending down to retrieve the water and Advil, which brought another fresh surge of pain through her head. As she swallowed the pills, Beca attempted to recall the previous night's events, in reverse chronological order.

She had a fleeting memory of bringing the trash can from the kitchen. She'd heard Jesse's snoring even from the other room.

 _Alright, and before that?_

Beca hazily remembered sitting in the limousine on the way back to her apartment. She'd been leaning forward, with her hands in her head. If was recalling correctly, Jesse had been rubbing small circles on her back for most of the ride.

 _A fine showing...idiot. Before that?_

The next thing that came to her was being surrounded by a number of celebrities whose star-status much outranked her own. She'd been offered congratulations, best wishes, and many a celebratory drink from the likes of Katy Perry, Sam Smith, and...wait, Beyonce? No, no. That last one must definitely have been a dream.

The night got easier and easier to remember as she worked backward in her mind.

The dancing that she had let herself partake in in her drunken state; an activity she never enjoyed when she was sober.

And before that, she recalled her numerous trips to the open bar, an overly-excited Jesse by her side all the while.

Prior to that, she recalled the anxiety that she had felt as she and Jesse had arrived at the after-party. Anxiety brought on not only by the prospect of walking into a party where she would undoubtedly receive a significant amount of attention from people who already intimidated her enough, but also by the magnitude of the stunt that she had pulled off earlier.

And she remembered what she had done on stage last night. She asked the _literal_ girl of her dreams on a date on live, nationwide television.

 _Oh my god. You fuckwad. You absolute idiot. Why would you do that to yourself?_ She fumbled for the cellphone that had been laying somewhere near the water bottle, and checked it, as if to see whether or not she had a message from "Chloe Beale" waiting for her. She saw the time, 8:05 AM (to which she gave an grimace), approximately one zillion notifications from various social media platforms, and a number of congratulatory texts from old friends and acquaintances. No such text from Chloe Beale.

 _Of course not. What did you expect, Beca? For her to drop the perfect life she is presumably living to what, go on a date with you? Hell, she probably wasn't even watching!_

In an effort to keep her mind from wandering to deeper and darker places, she heaved herself off of the couch, and shuffled her way to the kitchen to retrieve another water bottle and some Advil for her friend. Making her way back to him, she leaned forward and heard his snoring, which had become lighter over the course of the few hours that they had been asleep. She put her hand to his shoulder and gave a light squeeze. "Jesse."

Beca felt a little guilty for waking him up, but she needed companionship right now, 8:00 AM or not. Not to mention the fact that the position he was currently sleeping in would probably require a professional masseuse to sort out. Getting no response, she jostled his shoulder and spoke louder this time. "Jess, wake up."

Beca felt him shift under her touch, and a frown immediately fell upon his face, signaling his return to consciousness. She leaned back and heard a muffled sound that may or not have been actual words come from his mouth.

"Good morning, sunshine" Beca said.

"Shut up," he replied, still speaking directly into the throw pillow his was laying on. Even though he hadn't yet opened his eyes and couldn't see it, Jesse knew Beca had a smirk on her face. His assumption was confirmed as he flipped onto his back and sat up, after fumbling for his phone that had somehow managed to find its way underneath the chaise he'd been sleeping on.

"So, that was...a night," Beca said, offering Jesse the fresh bottle of water and Advil she'd gotten from the kitchen.

"You can say that again," he replied, after downing the pills and about a half of the water bottle in one swift go. "Did you have a good time at the after-party?" he asked.

"From what I can remember, I did indeed," she answered. From the look on Beca's face, Jesse knew that there was something else going on.

"Any news on the Chloe front?" Jesse asked, delicately.

"No developments on the Chloe front," she said. Jesse heard a faint trace of disappointment in his friend's voice.

"Don't worry about it, Becs. It's barely even been 12 hours. I'm sure you'll hear something soon," he replied reassuringly.

Beca saw Jesse take another long drink from his bottle as he grabbed his phone to check his own overnight notifications. He choked on the water coming from the bottle that he still had pressed to his lips, and a stream of water fell from his chin to his rumpled shirt. "You alright there, champ?" she asked with a chuckle.

"Uh huh, e-everything's good. I was just, uh, surprised to see how early it is," he shot back.

A ripple of skepticism ran through her mind, but she let it pass, and answered, "Yeah, I can barely manage to get up this early on a good day."

Jesse took another hearty drink from the water bottle so as to avoid having to come up with a response to his friend's comment. His eyes remained glued to his phone, and where he saw a sizable amount of text messages from people he had expected would send him some kind of congratulatory text. But his focus was on one message from an unknown number, containing something he certainly wasn't expecting.

 **5:36 AM**

 **iMessage (2)**

" **Hey, Jesse. This is Chloe Beale. Before you ask, yes, I was watching the award show last night. But there's something important that I need to talk to you about, concerning Beca's new lawyer. Let me know when is a good time to call you and discuss."**

* * *

 **A/N: Hope you enjoyed. What do you think?**


	6. Lightbulb

**A/N: Sorry that it's been a while. Life got in the way, writer's block ensued, motivation is hard...the usual. Thank you, thank you, thank you to those who have reviewed, followed, and favorited. It really does make me one happy human.**

 **Hope you guys like! Please R &R. It gives me life.**

* * *

Chloe was restless the next morning, to say the least. The few hours of sleep that she'd managed to get after sending her text to Jesse offered little respite from the thoughts plaguing her mind. She laid in bed to reflect on the gravity of the situation she was facing.

How was she supposed to pull this off? The reality was that Chloe really did love her career. She had never expected to become a lawyer. In fact, she could recall times from her youth where she'd thought about her future, and the one thing she was sure of was that she'd never become a doctor or a lawyer. And here she was, years later, with the official title of Chloe Leigh Beale, Esq. A _juris doctor..._ a doctor of the law. The irony was not lost on her.

But the thing was, that Chloe wasn't the type of lawyer that people generally imagined. She didn't go to court. She took no part in lawsuits. She referred questions of case law and statutes to litigators who knew how to handle those things. She was an entertainment lawyer. She took on clients involved in the music industry and negotiated with record labels, artists and the like, to get her clients the most she could from their various arrangements. Her business was people.

If there was one thing Chloe Beale was good at, it was people. Chloe was aware of the effect that her charming nature and warm smile had on others. She certainly took advantage of them when it came to her career. While some of her counterparts took a full-on combative approach to negotiations, Chloe used a subtle "kill them with sweetness" direction. She learned quickly that her personality could have even the most seasoned record label attorneys bending over backwards for her, all the while thinking it was their idea to make the concessions that Chloe would ask for. It was this approach that her earned the nickname of "the fucking assassin" at her firm. Her business was people, and she was good at it.

Apparently she was good enough that the partners of her firm thought she was ready to handle Grammy winning clients. Of course, the universe though it would be funny to hand over Beca Mitchell as Chloe's first big name client.

What was she going to do? Obviously, Chloe was over the moon that Beca had not forgotten her. Not only had Beca not forgotten about her, but she wanted to take Chloe on a _date_. But there were rules against these things. Rules of conduct that she'd promised to adhere to the day she was admitted to the bar. Lawyer/client relationships constituted a sizeable portion of the professional ethics class that she'd had to take during law school. Without even needing to consult the actual rules, she was aware that romantic relationships with a client could land a lawyer in some seriously hot water.

The smell of bacon and coffee wafting into her room broke her from her reverie, and prompted her to get out of bed with a stifled groan.

Making her way along the short hallway of her one-bedroom apartment, Chloe put a hand to her temple in an effort to quell the thumping headache that she was sure was a result of her lack of sleep.

She found Aubrey facing the stove with a coffee in one hand, and a pair of tongs, which Chloe gathered that she was using to tend to bacon, in the other. A plate of eggs sat on the kitchen table along a smaller plate topped with slices of toast.

"Good morning. Or should I say, good afternoon?"

Chloe was impressed that Aubrey could sense she was in the room without Chloe having made a sound. She simply chalked it up to Aubrey being Aubrey. A glance at the clock on the microwave told Chloe it was 12:30 PM. Had she really managed to "sleep" until noon?

"You're a saint, Bree." Chloe moved to the cabinet to grab a mug and make her own cup of coffee in her Keurig. "You know, you really didn't have to skip your morning workout to stay here and do this."

Chloe was well aware of the blonde's strict morning workout sessions. She was also well aware of how a day would go when Aubrey _didn't_ get to partake in her morning workout to release the frustrations that she'd accumulated the day before.

"It's okay, Chlo. I didn't need to skip it. I've already been to the gym and back; shower and all. I took your key, I hope you don't mind."

Of course Aubrey would've managed to fit in a trip to the gym before Chloe had even risen from her state of "early" morning ruminations. She must have been thinking pretty hard if she'd missed the creak that the hinges of her door made when it swings open or closed.

"Of course I don't mind, Bree. I don't know why I haven't just made a copy of it for you already. But honestly, thanks for being here. It's nice to have some company while I..." her thoughts trailed off as she took a seat at the table.

"Chloe, you know I'll always be here for you. I know how important Beca is to you, and I also know how important your career is to you. I can't imagine what I'd feel if I were you right now." Bree brought a plate of freshly cooked bacon and took a seat opposite Chloe.

Once more, Chloe felt a surge of gratitude that Aubrey was her best friend. To most, Aubrey came off as a cold, rigid human being. The epitome of a gladiator, whose arena was a courtroom. But Chloe was one of few who experienced a softer, empathetic side of the blonde. She knew she could count of Aubrey for just about anything.

The two continued their breakfast, though it was more of a brunch, in a comfortable silence. Aubrey wished there was something more that she could do to help her friend, but unfortunately, the blonde could only offer her companionship and support. Chloe must have been going through a lot at the moment, and she respected that.

Chloe insisted upon cleaning up the dishes, and Aubrey let her, knowing that the menial task would help Chloe keep her mind off of the more pressing issues that were weighing on the redhead's mind.

The Game of Thrones theme song sounded from down the hall as Chloe finished drying the last of the dishes. Though faint, the sound rang through the silence that had encompassed the kitchen after Bree had buried herself in the day's New York Times.

Neither girl had managed to get a word out before Chloe turned and ran off to her bedroom to find her phone.

Would Jesse really be calling so early in the morning after the Grammys?

One look at her phone screen gave her an answer.

"Hello?"

"H-hi, Chloe?"

Chloe took a deep breath before responding. Naturally, she'd been hoping that Jesse would get back to her _literally_ as soon as possible, but she hadn't expected an answer so quickly. She hadn't had time to think about what she would say to him, if and when he answered her text.

"Yes, this is Chloe. Hi, Jesse."

"Good morning, or...afternoon, considering where you are."

"Good morning", she replied. A thousand questions and thoughts ran through her mind, but she pushed them back and waited for Jesse to bring up the elephant in the room. Well...the elephant over the cell phone connection.

"So, you said there was something that you needed to talk to me about? About...Beca's lawyer?" His tone was such that Chloe knew he was genuinely confused about why Chloe Beale would have anything to do with Beca's _lawyer_.

Chloe managed to take another deep breath. It was clear to her that Jesse didn't know exactly who Beca's new lawyer would be. She figured she might as well get it all out there in the open.

"Yeah, well...I've been informed that you, as Beca's manager, hired a law firm to represent her. The-the thing is that that I work for the law firm that you approached...and well, the partners at my firm think that I would be a good fit for the new producer that they have taken on. So...what I'm saying is that they actually assigned me to Beca's account. I'm going to be Beca's new lawyer."

Chloe was out of breath by the time she managed to get it all out, and the moments that she took to get some air back into her lungs were filled with silence. The silence persisted long enough that she moved the phone from her ear to double check that the call had not been dropped. The timer that counted the length of her call continued to tick, and Chloe knew that Jesse was still on the line.

She couldn't blame him. She'd expected that Jesse would be just as speechless as she was last night when Aubrey had first broken the news to her.

What she didn't expect was the mischievousness in Jesse's voice when he replied.

"Oh, I see. Well, I think that we can work this to both of your advantages."

* * *

Beca never thought that two days could feel so overwhelmingly long. Two days had passed since Beca had completely embarrassed herself on national television. 48 hours since she had bared her biggest regret to the entire United States. The world, actually. Two days full of internet conjecturing about Beca Mitchell and the elusive Chloe Beale.

Some unsubstantiated theories believed that Beca must have gotten the girl the night of the Grammys, considering the fact that Beca hadn't been heard from since that night.

Others stated that Chloe Beale was in fact happily married with children, and that Beca had been a fool to pull a stunt like the one she did during her acceptance speech.

The reality of the situation was that there was still radio silence from Chloe.

 _Surely_ , Chloe had become aware of Beca's proposition by now. It was all over every news station and celebrity gossip website that Beca knew of.

The only answer that seemed logical was that the redhead had in fact seen Beca's big fuck-up and left it at that. Beca couldn't blame her. She had brought Chloe into the spotlight, unsolicited. Chloe probably hated her for bringing her into nationwide speculation. The internet's trolls would no doubt have managed to figure out that Beca and this "Chloe Beale" had attended the same college at the same time, and put two and two together.

The brunette had spent the two days after subduing her post-Grammys headache doing what she did best. Losing herself in music.

It seemed that subjecting herself to such epic mortification was quite the catalyst for inspiration.

At the same time, Beca was happy with her decision. She had put herself out there, for once. And though it didn't seem to be turning out in her favor, she was pleased with herself for making progress within her own psyche.

Laying stomach-down on her king-sized bed, she let the vindication of her fears overwhelm her as she let her feelings start to flow from her head into her hands, into her fingertips, through the pen she held loosely in her hand, and onto a blank sheet of her spiral notebook.

Beca hadn't always written songs. But thanks to one Emily Junk, she'd learned that songwriting really can be cathartic. Whether the songs she'd written would ever see the light of day was a different story. But the simple act of getting her thoughts out was truly freeing.

She'd come to cherish those minutes that she wrote her songs. Those precious minutes where Beca didn't need to think about what she was thinking. She could freely release the emotions that her brain would normally analyze and over-analyze. When she sat down to write, the pen took over. The pen drove her thoughts, and she was simply a passenger.

Each time the journey ended and she reflected on the words that looked back at up at her, she had only one thought.

Chloe Beale was one hell of a muse.

Beca had just settled into a solid flow of writing when the doorbell rang, causing her small body to jump and her pen to inelegantly scratch a line of ink halfway across the page. "Fucking Jesse," she muttered.

It seemed that Jesse had developed a gift for choosing _the_ most vexatious times to show up, unsolicited. She had lost count of the number of times a streak of inspiration had been cut short by Jesse's arrival at her doorstep.

Beca stashed her notebook back into its hiding place in her t-shirt drawer, and slowly trudged to the front door in a passive aggressive response to Jesse's interruption. She considered it a small victory.

She swung the door open with a scowl firmly in place, and was met with her best friend's doofy grin. He was bouncing, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Hiya, Becaw!" Jesse said, practically shouting at her even though there was only a few feet of distance between them. As his doofy grin widened, her scowl deepened. This only caused his grin to get even doofier.

"Dude. Not that I don't _love_ having you here, but like, why are you here? I was kind of in the middle of something."

"I tried to call! Your phone must be dead."

"It's off. You know I turn it off when I write. So as to avoid _interruptions_ ," she said, hands waving in front of her and with particular emphasis on the last word.

Jesse either didn't get her hint, or simply didn't care. "Well, how was I supposed to contact you to find _out_ what you were doing if it's off," Jesse challenged with a smirk that could rival Beca's.

Unable to come up with a response, Beca wordlessly stepped to the side and Jesse took that as a cue to follow her inside.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company," she questioned, noticing that Jesse hadn't moved to plop himself on the couch like he usually does, and still had his car keys in hand.

"Well, if your phone had been on, you'd have gotten my phone call during which I would have reminded you, for the millionth time, by the way, that you have a meeting with the lawyer that is going to be representing you today," Jesse reasoned.

She noticed that Jesse was still sporting an unusually genial smile. "And that's a reason for cheer? You know I despise meeting with lawyers. Always so goddamn stuffy."

This was certainly true. Beca Mitchell seemed to get along with lawyers in the same way that Fat Amy got along with sugar-free snacks. Which was not well. Not well at all. The _many_ lawyers that she had met with so far over the course of her career did not seem to appreciate Beca's sardonic attitude or wry sense of humor.

She briefly recalls one particularly unpleasant experience in which the attorney had threatened her with a restraining order or some other kind of legal mumbo-jumbo if Beca so much as stepped foot on the premises again.

Looking back on it, Beca was grateful that Jesse had whisked her out the door before she'd resorted to fisticuffs. A lawyer was not the best person to grace with one of her right-hooks. And she certainly didn't need to add assault to the small laundry list of misdemeanors she'd accumulated since her youth.

"Oh, I think that you will find that this attorney," Jesse cleared his throat, "has a lot to offer," he finished off with another smirk, and this one _nearly_ passed as a Beca Mitchell Smirk.

Her first thought was that maybe she should talk to this "lawyer" about a trademark for that shit _._ She did not appreciate being on the receiving end of a smirk that frustratingly smug. The next was that Jesse seemed to be smirking an uncharacteristic amount today. Over a lawyer. Something weird was definitely going on.

"Ooookay? Either way, you know I don't give a shit about that stuff. Why do you think I've kept you around all these years," she said as she dished out the _true_ Beca Mitchell Smirk.

Jesse brought a hand to his chest and playfully staggered. "Damn, Becs. You wound me."

"Whatever, loser," she shot back, unable to keep the edges of her lips from curling into the ghost of a smile.

Over the years, Jesse had come to accept Beca's deprecating "insults" as the terms of endearment that he knew Beca intended them to be but would never openly acknowledge.

"Now go get your shit together, and let's get on the road!"

Beca merely grumbled and left her friend in the hall and made her way back to her bedroom.

Ten minutes later, Beca had touched up her eyeliner, grabbed her bag, and met Jesse in his black Dodge Challenger.

"Off we go! Shrek and Donkey on another whirlwind adventure!" Jesse exclaimed, once Beca had clicked her seatbelt in place.

Okay, Beca was sure that they were living in some weird parallel universe today. Jesse was perpetually enthusiastic but this was well...bizarre. Over a lawyer?

Four miles later, which translated into a solid 45 minutes due to the traffic which never seemed to cease no matter the time of day, Jesse had managed to find street parking outside of the non-descript office building tucked into a corner in Beverly Hills.

Jesse had to practically drag Beca along by the elbow as they approached the building before them.

He faltered for a moment and apparently she hadn't noticed, as she kept walking, but was immediately tugged backwards by the force of Jesse's impromptu standstill.

 _Seriously, what is happening today,_ she thought after observing yet another one of Jesse's fully-fledged smiles.

"Dude. Can we just like, get this over with? I was in the zone before you-"

Jesse reigned in his grin and cut Beca off. He wanted to get this meeting over with just as much as Beca, but he couldn't tell her why...yet.

"Yeah. I'm just excited. I think you and this attorney could have a really, _ahem,_ fruitful relationship," he explained as she looked at him like he had three heads.

 _Oh my god. What is happening_.

"Let's just get on with it," Beca muttered as she took the lead into the office building, leaving an amused Jesse in her wake.

"Let's get on with it, indeed," he mumbled, soft enough that Beca couldn't hear him.

Once they were both inside, Jesse approached the security guard standing behind the desk in the lobby of the building. He informed the guard that they were there for a meeting with Fitzgerald Schmidt & Oberfeld. The security guard, a balding man with beady eyes, looked over the pair in front of him with skeptical eyes and begrudgingly pointed them in the direction of the elevator that would take them to the appropriate floor.

Stepping out of the elevator, Jesse once again took the lead and addressed the receptionist, as Beca awkwardly stood behind him. She felt like a child whose parent was dragging her unwillingly to a dentist appointment. But hey, that's what managers/best friends are for, right?

Upon learning who the newcomers were and why they were here, the receptionist's eyes widened and she scrambled from her swivel chair and led the pair into an empty conference room.

"P-please make yourself comfortable, Miss Mitchell. I'll tell the attorneys you're here and you can get your meeting s-started," she stuttered as she backed out of the room, giving some weird half-curtsey.

"Looks like someone has an admirer," Jesse said, once the receptionist was out of earshot. Beca had not yet sat down, but was instead pacing in front of the bookshelves that lined the walls, bag still over her shoulder.

"Shut up," she shot back.

Five minutes later, she and Jesse remained the only occupants of the conference room. She passed the time examining the books on the shelves and finding herself, yet again, unimpressed by their contents. Rows and rows of identical volumes, bound in various shades of leather. Court reporters...Code Supplements...Casebooks...blah, blah, blah. No variety. No creativity. No freedom.

Just like the lawyers who no doubt spent their days huddled over these atrocious books.

 _Well, all of the lawyers except for one, I bet._ Her brain focused on that one lawyer who Beca knew, without a doubt, was an exception to the rule. The lawyer who seemed to be an exception to _every_ rule. Especially Beca Mitchell's rules.

Now, Beca had had her fair share of light-bulb moments in her lifetime. They typically occurred in the context of her music. Finding the right chord progressions that flowed perfectly into the next, piecing together harmonies that melded with each other elegantly, or simply developing a heart-thumping bass drop. This moment didn't really register on that scale. The lightbulb in her head had been switched on so abruptly that its filament overheated and glowed so brightly it illuminated recesses of her mind she hadn't visited in a while, before it finally burst.

Her eyes widened as she finally realized what was going on here.

"Jesse, tell me you didn't-" she started, in a low voice that she herself barely heard. But before she could finish the sentence, a melodious sound that Beca had begun to worry she may never hear again filled the air.

"Hello Miss Mitchell, Mr. Swanson. It's nice to see you both again. Welcome."

Beca whipped around so rapidly that her messenger bag fell from her should and landed on the floor with an unceremonious thud.

Her heartbeat was thudding so hard in her chest that she could hear it in her ears. Beca barely took notice of the man standing behind the redhead, whose presence was the only thing that registered in her mind, which was struggling to function properly.

 _Fuuuck._

One glance at Chloe Beale, and Beca was instantly transformed back into the blubbering mess that she'd been during their first meeting behind the science building her freshman year at Barden University.

* * *

 **A/N: Welp, our girls have finally reunited. I promise that next chapter we will some some college Beca/Chloe. Please let me know what you think!**

 **And on another note, I'm currently beta-ing for the first time ever. So I suggest you all hop along to BlackLightning1212's Bechloe story, "I Dare You," and check it out. I assure that you will not be disappointed.**


	7. The Killers of Small Animals club

**A/N: Here we are with another chapter. Sorry for the wait! For some reason, inspiration for this story comes sporadically. My outline for this fic disappeared somehow, so I'm basically flying blind from here on out. Maybe that will make for a more interesting story. Who knows.**

 **On another note, this thing has reached over 100 followers! *Runs around with hands on head and smacks directly into the wall* What, what!? Thank you again to everyone who has followed, favorited, commented, and/or read this story. You guys are the best.**

 **Oh, and the chunk of italics in the middle is a flashback, which I'm sure all of your are smart enough to realize even without this disclaimer.**

* * *

Okay, so Beca might have dropped her bag on the conference room floor, but Chloe was really no better. She thought she'd prepared for this. She and Jesse had prepared a foolproof plan to reduce Beca to a bumbling idiot in repentance of what she'd done to Chloe on live, nationwide TV. But now, in the heat of the moment, Chloe couldn't respond much more graciously herself.

Especially with the fact that Chloe's boss was standing at her left shoulder. She and Jesse hadn't planned on a partner sitting in on her meeting with Beca.

She could feel her jaw drop as she took in the chocolate tresses, dark blue eyes, and green and blue flannel she was met with when the brunette finally whipped around. She'd forgotten what it was like to physically be in the DJ's presence, and now that she was, she was feeling about as overwhelmed as Beca looked.

"Chloe?"

Internally, Chloe wanted nothing more than to rush the DJ, push her against the nearest solid surface, and show Beca just how excited she was to see her. Reality crashed back in as her superior cleared this throat from behind her. It was just as well, considering the mental images were beginning to surpass PG-13 and rapidly approached rated R territory. She could feel the blush rising to her cheeks just as rapidly.

 _Collect yourself, Beale. She's a client._ She couldn't take the time to process the fact that her mind wanted to tack on a " _for now"_ at the end. Her boss was right behind her, and Chloe couldn't afford to forget the fact that Beca Mitchell was a client that she was expected to represent for the foreseeable future.

She watched as Beca made her way around the conference table, bag still lying next to the shelves of books she'd been examining. Chloe took those few seconds to try and get her shit together, but her attempts were cut short when Beca arrived in front of her, hand outstretched, mouth set it wide smile.

"Nice to see you again, Miss Mitchell," Chloe said, meeting Beca's smile with one of her own. "Just Beca," the smaller girl replied. She grasped the brunette's hand and couldn't tear her eyes away from Beca. It had been so long since she'd been able to take a good look at her face. Sure, she'd seen Beca's pictures on various social media platforms, and at awards shows, obviously, but it was something else entirely to take in the way that Beca's visage had changed since their days at Barden. Her features were more pronounced than Chloe recalled, her hair was just noticeably longer, and she thought there might even be one more "ear monstrosity," as Aubrey liked to call them, tucked in amongst the rings and spikes that had always been there.

This time, it was Jesse's turn to clear his throat and bring both girls back down to earth. He was standing to Beca's right and wore a grin as wide as his face. Chloe had nearly forgotten the fact that there were two other people in the room. She looked down and saw that their hands were still joined, and still shaking up and down. The blush on her cheeks was making itself even more pronounced, and she could see the same thing reflecting on Beca's face. Reluctantly, she withdrew her hand from Beca's and offered it to Jesse.

"Mr. Swanson," she said, giving him a pointed look. She thought she'd had an ally in Jesse to make Beca squirm, and here he was looking at her like he wanted to laugh at her just as much as he wanted to laugh at Beca.

"Call me Jesse, please," he replied jovially. Their handshake was distinctly more brief than the one she shared with Beca.

Chloe stepped to the side and looked at her boss, who moved forward and offered his hand to the pair.

"I'd like to introduce Gary Oberfeld, a founding partner at the firm. He'll be sitting in on this first meeting to answer any questions you might have for him. So if you guys don't have any at this time, why don't we get down to it?"

Beca and Jesse both nodded their heads, with the smaller of the two still wearing an expression of slight disbelief. The four of them took seats at the conference table, with Beca and Jesse sitting opposite Chloe and Gary.

"So," Chloe started, "I just want to welcome you to the firm. We aren't exclusively an entertainment firm, but the department is extensive nevertheless. A lot of the attorneys here have great working relationships with both major and indie labels, as well as distributors, publishers, and industry agencies. I think you'll be happy with the representation that I can provide for you." As she spoke, Chloe sunk into "professional mode," and let her business mind take precedence over the happy dance that another part of her brain was currently doing at the sight Beca Mitchell across the table.

"Jesse has already kindly sent me some of your demos which I've already passed along to some of my contacts at Universal, Sony, Atlantic, and a few others. The response has been positive, unsurprisingly, so I expect to hear some offers roll in before too long," she finished.

Beca's face never left hers, and Chloe had to force herself to tear her gaze away from the brunette's to look at Jesse every so often. She saw the DJ's eyes widen slightly as she continued her spiel. "Y-you do all that?" Beca questioned. "Don't you just like, have papers for me to sign or something?"

Chloe couldn't help but chuckle at the DJ. Beca's career was already a few years in the making, but Chloe could tell she clearly hadn't been terribly involved in the business aspect of it, and assumed that it was Jesse who'd been taking care of the networking and administrative side of things. Her boss nudged her knee with his own under the table, and Chloe straightened her face once more.

"Well, I _will_ have papers for you to sign, if everything goes according to plan. But as a member of your professional team, I also shop your music to whomever I think might hear it and want to make a deal with you. Music lawyers are rather well respected in the industry, if I do say so myself. Maybe even more so than managers and agents," she continued, shooting Jesse a playful smile. She received another nudge under the table, but shook this one off and kept going. "First of all, labels don't accept unsolicited demos purely because of efficiency problems. The labels like getting recommendations from lawyers because they know that if we send them something, it's already got real potential. We've got reputations to uphold and our relationships with them generally prove to be lucrative for everyone. So it's kind of a symbiotic relationship, I guess."

Beca was looking at her with her jaw askew and wonderment in her eyes. Chloe could practically feel her ego being stroked as she took in Beca's expression. It didn't quite match the stunt the brunette had pulled, but Chloe finally felt like she and Jesse managed to accomplish their task.

The next hour or so was spent with Chloe talking about "points," "residuals," "controlled comp clauses," and other deal provisions. The meeting wasn't intended to last as long as it did, but Chloe had to spend a fair amount of time explaining the purpose and effect of each topic they discussed. They ended the meeting after Mr. Oberfeld slid a retainer agreement across the table for Beca to sign; an official start of the professional relationship between the redhead and brunette.

Mr. Oberfeld shook hands with Jesse and Beca once more, and excused himself from the conference room.

Chloe turned her gaze back to the two brunettes. "Well, it seems like we've got a pretty good start on your asks, so I can get the ball rolling when offers start coming in." She gave Beca a wide smile, "I predict a bright future for you, DJ."

Beca smirked, a full one that was just so _Beca_. "Well, with you on my team, I would be surprised if it wasn't."

"Hey!" Jesse piped up indignantly as he gave her a light punch on the shoulder. "Anyways, thanks so much Chloe. I appreciate you going over everything so thoroughly with us. The other lawyers we've tried to work with usually just rattled off all the legal jargon and sent us on our way."

"It's no problem," Chloe answered truthfully. "We're all here for Beca, and I just want to make sure she's fully aware of the ins and outs of this part of her career."

Chloe was reluctant to let Beca leave the office. She'd spent so long without the brunette truly being a part of her life, and now that she was here in the flesh, Chloe wanted to capitalize on the time they did have together.

As quickly as she could, she probed her brain for another reason to extend their meeting and turned to Beca. "We did good work today, but I'd like to spend some more time getting to know you. As an artist," she finished. "Maybe over lunch one day. You know, to find out what your music is all about, and what in direction you'd like to take it so we can figure out which labels and artists might be the best fi-"

Her rambling was cut short when Beca let out a short snicker. "Do you have plans over lunch today?"

Chloe kept talking for a few more moments before she even registered that Beca has asked her a question. Her mouth hung open for a short second until she managed to pull together a calm façade before answering.

"I don't believe I do. Let me go check my schedule." Chloe departed the conference room and briskly made her through the halls towards her makeshift office before pulling up her Outlook calendar and finding that she didn't have any meetings planned with clients or colleagues at lunchtime.

She took the moment alone to gather her thoughts, running her hands through her copper locks. _Get your shit together, Beale. She's supposed to be the one rambling, not you._

She picked up her purse, and after a few deep breaths, she squared her shoulders and set off at a leisurely pace back to the conference room. She found Jesse checking his phone while Beca slung her bag across her shoulder, and Chloe couldn't help but notice how attractive Beca looked wearing a messenger bag.

"You guys are in luck, I'm free for lunch today. There's a Mexican restaurant near my hotel that looked pretty good, if you want to try it. It's not too far from here," Chloe questioned.

"Works for me," Beca answered.

Both girls looked at Jesse who grinned as he spoke. "I actually have to...do a thing...at this place...soon."

Chloe saw Beca glare at him before she answered. "Alright then, I'll just take an Uber back to my place," Beca said with a shrug of her shoulders.

Jesse turned to Chloe, stretching out his hand once again. "It was really nice to see you again, Chloe. I'm sure you'll do wonders for Beca." he said, with a deep smirk, " 's career," he finished, winking at her. He left the room without another word.

Chloe turned back to Beca with a look of disbelief. "Did he just wink at me?" she asked?

"Yeah, he's a winker." Beca said with a grimace.

"And here I thought I was the only one," Chloe replied, with a wink of her own.

Beca let out a groan, and tilted her head towards the ceiling. "There are two of you?!"

* * *

As they entered the cantina, Beca couldn't remember being more excited for a business lunch a long time. Probably ever. Definitely ever.

She approached the hostess who immediately led them to a table near the back of the restaurant. Normally, Beca enjoyed sitting outside when the option was presented to her, but this was Beverly Hills, and there were no doubt paparazzi stalking the sidewalks for candids of celebrities. As a music producer and not a recording artist, she probably wouldn't have been noticed, but now that she has a GRAMMY under her belt, the odds are less in her favor.

When the hostess finished seating them, the two gazed at their menus in a silence that reeked of tension.

After a solid thirty seconds during which neither spoke, Chloe broke the silence. "So, I know you've been producing a lot of pop punk bands, but is that-"

Beca didn't know what it was, maybe it was the fact that Chloe looked as anxious as she was, but she felt a surge of confidence and decided to roll with it. "Ya know, you don't have to come up with some lame work excuse to have lunch with me, Beale."

She knew she'd struck the right chord when Chloe gaped at her before her face contorted into a look of indignation. "Hey, this is a legitimate line of questioning for a new client of mine."

"Yeah, okay," Beca replied. "See, I've been wondering for the last two hours why Jesse didn't look nearly as shocked to see you as I was."

Though neither knew, each was internally cursing Jesse Swanson for bowing out of lunch. Beca, because she wasn't a simpleton and figured that he'd been in this surprise all along. Chloe, because he'd left her high and dry when they were supposed to be a team.

"Yeah, well. Someone, who shall remain nameless, pulled quite the stunt on a nationally televised award show. Another person, who shall also remain nameless, felt that that act needed some retribution and contracted one Jesse Swanson to facilitate," Chloe responded.

"One Jesse Swanson is going to get one firm right hook to the jaw," Beca deadpanned.

At the easy conversation they were beginning to make, Beca couldn't help but think back to her first real conversation with the redhead following the disaster of the introduction they'd had.

 _Beca sat in front of her laptop in her empty dorm room, thankful that Kimmy Jin was still out with the KSA. With the death glares she received on a regular basis, Beca was convinced the acronym stood for the Killers of Small Animals club, rather than the "Korean Student Association" which her roommate claimed it to be._

 _As she tried to match a few songs that shared the same chord progressions, a solid rapping on the door broke her concentration. Upon opening it, she was met with a large Australian who bowled her way past Beca until she plopped on the brunette's bed._

" _Kick the Wednesday Addams vibe and join the land of the living for a party tonight," Fat Amy exclaimed, polishing off her statement with a forceful hiccup. Beca could tell her friend had already downed more than a few beverages before coming to find her._

" _I was actually in the middle-" Beca tried to reply._

" _No, no, Shortstack," Amy started, "This the gazillionth time I've asked you out on the town. Enough's enough."_

" _Out on the town?" Beca questioned. "You realize this campus is like, twenty yards across at its widest."_

" _For someone who doesn't leave Baker Hall, it might as well be the Outback," Amy retorted._

 _Beca could tell that there was no getting out of it this time and resigned herself to a heavy sigh and a change of flannel. At least this one wasn't covered in Red Bull stains and Dorito dust._

 _As they walked, though more of a trudge in Beca's case, she finally asked the blonde where they were headed._

" _The Treblemaker's house. Bumper's throwing a party because it's Tuesday," Amy replied._

 _Beca had a mind to question her, but then decided against it, knowing that anything her friend would respond with would most definitely not answer her question in the slightest. So she followed along and tried to make a mental note of the songs she'd been trying to mash together._

 _A half an hour later, Beca found herself in the middle of the Treblemaker's house with no Australian in sight. She'd found Stacie, but the brunette was straddling the hips of some Treble she'd found whose name Beca was pretty sure was Donald, so she decided not to interrupt. She then located Jessica too enraptured in a conversation with Ashley to even notice her presence. Luckily, Jesse found her and led her to the array of alcohol scattered around the kitchen. She gratefully drained the cup of whatever he'd presented to her and poured herself another before making her way to the deck attached to the house. The crowded interior of the house had been suffocating, so she thought some fresh air would do her good._

 _No sooner had she perched her elbows on the wooden railing of the deck, than a whiff of skunk invaded her nostrils. It took only a few seconds for her mind to register that it was marijuana, and not skunk._

 _In the same instant, her periphery was invaded by the same shade of red that had cropped up in her dreams as of late._

" _I've never seen you out at a party before," the person said._

 _Beca turned her head to find the one and only Chloe Beale._

 _She raised an eyebrow at the comment. "We met a party, if I recall correctly."_

" _And what an introduction it was. You nearly put me into cardiac arrest. Anyways. Besides that one," Chloe finished, waving her hand around dismissively._

" _That's-that's because I haven't really been to many," she replied. She cursed herself for stuttering. There had been enough of that the first time they'd met._

" _I actually haven't seen you around at all," Chloe said, though it seemed she was speaking to herself more than anything._

 _Beca didn't how what to say to that. For Chloe to say such a thing would mean that she'd been keeping an eye out for her. That possibility didn't really compute in Beca's mind. So in true Beca Mitchell fashion, she disregarded the statement entirely. (And in the truest Beca Mitchell fashion, she only told herself that she was disregarding the statement, and would most likely spend the next few days and weeks pretending she wasn't analyzing every possible reason for its utterance.)_

" _I'm not much for parties, I was dragged to this one by a rather insistent Australian." Beca responded truthfully. She didn't really understand her need to explain herself to the redhead, but she continued anyway. "I live in Baker Hall. The dining hall is right across the path, and the gym is just behind it," she continued. "My classes are nearby as well," she added, more of an afterthought than anything else. "I don't really stray too far."_

 _The redhead drew her right hand to her face before taking a hit of a perfectly rolled conical joint._

 _Beca watched as Chloe exhaled, smoke billowing from her nostrils and parted lips, her gaze following the swirls the smoke made as they faded into the night air._

" _That's a shame," the redhead said. "Broaden your Barden horizons there, Mitchell." She stretched her hand across her body offering the brunette the joint._

 _Originally, Beca had thought this was going to be a nondescript night slaving away in front her laptop while Kimmy Jin's fellow Small Animal killers returned from the hunt to play Wii Bowling. But here she was, accepting a joint from the Chloe Beale. The Chloe Beale who, Beca wasn't ready to admit to herself, had already become a source of inspiration for some pretty rockin' mixes._

 _Beca took two drags of the joint that had been offered to her and passed it back to Chloe. "I just may." Beca said replied with a small grin, smoke leaking from her nostrils as she spoke. "Ya know, I would never have pegged you as a stoner."_

" _Well, appearances aren't all that they seem, now are they?" Chloe responded playfully._

" _You got me there, Beale."_

 _Before Beca could come up with something to continue the conversation she was having with the Chloe Beale, Fat Amy burst onto the deck stumbled her way over to the pair._

" _Ginga'," Amy said with another hiccup. "This is the second time I've found you two together. You don't have a new favorite Bella now, do you?"_

 _The question earned a giggle and an "I could never" from Chloe, and an eye roll from Beca._

" _So, where's that boy toy of yours? Tom, was it? You still got him off the market or can I invite him to explore the Australian bush?"_

 _Beca eyes widened in horror, and she coughed so hard on the joint Chloe had passed back to her that her eyes watered._

" _Sorry, Amy. He's still off the market for now, but I'll get back to you if that changes," Chloe replied good-naturedly._

 _Once Beca's coughing had reduced to an inelegant wheeze, she straightened herself up and gave one solid nod of the head. "On that note, I am out of here."_

 _Fat Amy shot her a bewildered expression and said, "But Shortstack! We just got here!"_

" _Ah, ah," Beca tutted. "I said I'd come to the party. I don't recall ever saying I'd stay."_

 _Fat Amy face drooped, but Beca wasn't sure that was due to her departure or the fact that she just finished whatever was in the Solo cup she held. If she was looking, she would have seen a slight droop on Chloe's face as well._

 _When she did look at Chloe to say goodbye, she offered a genuine smile. "It was nice to see you again, Chloe. Maybe I'll see you around."_

" _Maybe, if you ever decide to venture," Chloe replied with a grin and a wave._

 _Beca turned to Amy, and gave her a simple, "Tell Jesse I left. Peace," before turning on her heel and making her down the wooden steps of the deck and around the back of the house to return to the safety of her dorm room. Well, "safe" is a subjective word when Kimmy Jim is involved._

The waitress brought their meals to the table, jarring Beca from her reminiscing.

"You looked like you were on another planet just then," Chloe commented.

"Oh, it's nothing," Beca responded quickly, a slight flush making its way to her face. "So, can I ask what you're even doing in LA? Last I knew you were still in New York," she said, wishing to change the subject before Chloe could push the issue. "Not that I mind, obviously," she added on, which only served to exacerbate the flush of her cheeks.

"Well," Chloe said, with her elbows in the table and her chin resting atop her interlocked fingers.

 _God, she's cute._

"I am still living in New York, technically. But my firm flew me out to the LA branch for a few days for a meeting with a pretty sexy producer that just so happens to be my newest client," Chloe said with a mischievous glint in her eye that the brunette wasn't sure she'd ever get to witness again.

Beca so taken aback by the statement that she sputtered on the water that she was sipping, resulting a small trail of it dribbling down her chin and onto her plaid shirt.

 _Welp. Kill me now. Powers that be, please strike me down immediately._

"Lucky gal," Beca said in an attempt to salvage some semblance of dignity.

"Who ever said it was a lady?" Chloe deadpanned.

Beca's eyes widened. "Oh, well...th-..I...shit."

At least that one earned a hearty laugh from Chloe. Beca would embarrass herself in front of the redhead any day of the week if she got to hear that laugh.

"It's okay, Mitchell. Maybe I'll introduce you one day."

Yep. Chloe Beale would be the death of her. She was sure of it.

* * *

 **Let me know what y'all think. Reviews make me one happy author.**

 **And here's a shameless plug! I've started another Bechloe fic, which just so happens to be a Titanic AU. If that tickles your fancy, please check it out! It's called "When the Ship Docks, I'm Getting Off With You."**


	8. Advances, Points, and Creative Control

**Hello readers. Another apology for taking so long to update. Law school finals are no joke, I assure you. And then there was just, life, getting in the way again. I solemnly promise that no matter how long it takes between updates, I will not abandon this story.**

 **Given that it's taken months, some of you guys have probably forgotten what this thing is even about in the first place. So, I figured I'd give a quick recap of everything that's gone on. If you do remember, kudos to you, and feel free to skip this and get straight to it. Alright, so we started out with Beca and Chloe at Barden. However, Chloe was a High Note. Therefore, they didn't get to interact much before Chloe graduated (on time). So we skip ahead a few years and Beca is in LA as a relatively new producer, and Chloe is in New York as an entertainment lawyer. Beca wins her first GRAMMY, and, like a nutcase, uses her acceptance speech as an opportunity to ask Chloe on a date. On live television. Then we find out that Chloe is in fact Beca's new lawyer. Beca and Jesse (her manager, now) have their first meeting with Chloe, after which Chloe and Beca end up going to lunch. For professional reasons, of course. Not because they have mutually been pining over each other for years now. Not at all.**

 **So now that we're all caught up:**

* * *

The day after Chloe's spur of the moment lunch with her new favorite client, she received an email from an attorney at Atlantic Records she'd been corresponding with previously. It contained a draft of a producer agreement that was, conveniently for Chloe, dated prior to Beca's GRAMMY win. Any lawyer worth his salt would've had the common sense to at least change the date to after the producer's win.

His oversight left the door wide open for Chloe to not-so-subtly, flex her muscles. Well, Beca's muscles, technically. _And what delicious muscles they are,_ Chloe mused. The brunette may be tiny, but Chloe definitely hadn't failed to pick up on the definition in her arms once or twice. Before her thoughts could wander too far into dangerous territory, she sent a reply explaining the change in Beca's circumstances, and therefore, the need to make some alterations to the agreement he'd sent to Chloe.

The people at Atlantic, and probably Warner, their parent company, must have taken note of Beca's success at the GRAMMYs, because a response promptly came later that day. And they must have wanted her. Badly.

In fact, Chloe had to put her reading glasses on to take in the re-draft of the agreement they'd attached to their reply for a second time, just to make sure that what she thought she'd read was correct. Not only had the people at Atlantic accommodated every request Chloe had made, they had actually supplemented the provisions, offering more than Chloe had even considered asking for. She wasn't sure, as she was, admittedly, relatively new to the industry, but it wasn't often that something like this happened.

Her first instinct was to release a squeal that would rival even the best woo-girl, but she clapped a hand over her mouth and instead settled with a couple vigorous spins in her desk chair. She couldn't help but submit to the wide smile that was fighting its way to her face.

Having concluded her personal celebration, her next move was to relay the big news to the client. Chloe was delighted for the excuse to talk to Beca again so soon after their meeting yesterday. Not that she really needed an excuse, given what Beca had said at the GRAMMYs.

Chloe had been surprised that they'd actually made it through lunch yesterday without discussing the elephant in the room, but she couldn't exactly say she was disappointed. Obviously, she wanted to go on a date with Beca. Many dates, actually. Maybe for the rest of her life, though she would never admit that to anyone but herself. But she still had yet to figure out how they could manage that when there was this damned "no lawyer/client relationship" rule.

The problem was that this wasn't some trivial policy that her firm had cooked up on its own. One of the primary tenets of being a lawyer is that your duty is to the client; to put the client's best interests above all else. It was a basic philosophy that had been drilled in her head since her first year of law school. For a lawyer to become involved with a client could easily jeopardize the lawyer's ability to provide satisfactory representation. Though Chloe was sure that she was mature enough to be able to separate a professional and personal relationship with Beca, the rule had been established by the Bar Association, the national body that governed all lawyers who'd passed the bar. If she was caught in a relationship with a client, she could not only be fined, but she could lose this job and even lose her license to practice law at all.

And Chloe wasn't sure that she wanted to risk that. She'd overcome so many of her personal demons to reach this point and land this job, and now that she was here, she'd found that she loved it. And she was _good_. It'd been such a long time since Chloe had felt proud of herself, to feel the confidence that came with working towards success and finally achieving it. To lose that would cost her a lot more than just a job; it could threaten to undo all the progress she had made in battling her own insecurities.

Chloe had gone over it in her head a thousand times since Beca had given her speech, but now was not the time to keep ruminating. She had big news and she couldn't wait to share it with Beca, so she snatched her phone from her desk and called the brunette.

* * *

Beca was seated at a table tucked into a far corner of the coffee shop, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone's Tumblr app and waiting for Jesse to arrive. She flinched when the phone started to vibrate in her hand, and a familiar name appeared on her screen.

"Hello?"

To be honest, Beca was a little surprised about the fact that Chloe was calling her the day after their lunch meeting. Granted, she knew the lunch meeting was really no more than an opportunity for her and her new lawyer to get acquainted with each other in the professional context. At the same time, she had to acknowledge that there were moments that seemed to be charged with a tension that was all too familiar to the brunette. Not even Beca, oblivious Beca, could deny it.

Still, she wasn't at all sure about how to approach the fact that Chloe had barely mentioned Beca's on-air request.

Best case scenario, in her mind, was that Chloe would have called her the moment that Beca had disappeared backstage directly after she'd gone through with her admittedly insane plan. She knew, though, that things aren't always that simple. After all, Chloe may have zero interest in dating Beca, and this was just her way of letting the brunette down easily; by simply declining to acknowledge it with any seriousness.

"Hey Beca, it's Chloe."

"Yeah, I, uh, I got that. Caller ID has been a thing for a few years now."

She heard a chuckle from the other side and had to strangle the grin that seemed to crawl up out of nowhere.

"So...I have some great news for you," Chloe said after a few moments.

"Oh yeah? Wha-" Beca's train of thought was interrupted as a body plopped into the seat across from her, and a steaming coffee was pushed towards her in repentance of the offender's late appearance. "Sorry, my slacker of a manager finally decided to grace me with his presence," she continued.

Jesse held up his hands in mock offense. " _Who's that?"_ Jesse mouthed, his eyes on the cell phone.

" _Chloe,"_ Beca mouthed back with a hand covered the microphone. She chose to ignore the eyebrow waggle Jesse threw at her and returned her attention to her phone call.

"Chloe?" she asked, checking to make sure that the redhead was still on the line.

"I'm here."

"Cool, so what is this great news?" Beca registered Jesse's questioning look and shrugged in response.

"Yeah! Well, you know how I said I'd already had some preliminary talks with a couple labels? Atlantic Records was the one I'd been communicating with the most."

"Okaaay," she answered, waiting for the redhead to continue. Beca wasn't sure where Chloe was going with this, but she could tell from the redhead's tone that something big was coming. It was like the excitement in Chloe's voice triggered excitement inside of Beca herself, a sensation unfamiliar to the brunette. Not to say Beca was a sociopath or anything. She was always happy for her friends' successes, and would try her best for offer comfort in their times of need, but this...this was different. Like Chloe's happiness was her own happiness. If she didn't know that she was in way too deep before that moment, she sure as hell did now.

"So, I actually was able to use your GRAMMY win to up our asks, and, Beca, they really want you. They went above and beyond, and if I didn't know any better, this might be precedent setting. I don't know of many producers so new to the industry that have gotten offers like this before."

"Wait, what?" Beca asked, slightly stunned.

"Yeah. I'll spare you the intricate details, but here are the basics. They want you to be the lead producer on a studio-length album, with a minimum of 12 tracks. In exchange, they're offering you a $250,000 advance, 17% percent of royalties. And creative control would rest with you," Chloe finished, and Beca heard her take in a deep breath. By the end of her spiel, the redhead's voice had risen so high that Beca was surprised it hadn't already surpassed the point of humanly audible pitch, causing a hearty laugh to escape her before her body had even given her the chance to restrain it.

"Shit, Chloe. Are you serious?" Beca half-expected this to be another stupid joke that Chloe and Jesse had cooked up together.

"I've never been more serious. You did it, Becs."

Beca was sure if it was Chloe's use of the nickname and the sincerity in her voice, or the knowledge that she was finally accomplishing everything she'd been working for that caused her eyes to water. Deep down, she knew it was all of those things combined.

She'd completely forgotten Jesse's presence at her table until he tapped her arm with a concerned expression.

"I guess so, huh? Thank you, Chloe. Tell them yes, or whatever needs to happen next, obviously. I've gotta tell Jesse. And, uh, thanks again, Chloe. Really."

"All part of the job description. Now go celebrate! I'll be in touch," Chloe replied.

"Okay. Talk to you later, then."

"Bye, Beca," Chloe said as she disconnected the call.

Beca set her phone on the table, leaning forward and letting out a deep breath, resting her forehead on her hands. "Holy shit," she mumbled, closing her eyes tight, causing the tears welled in her eyes to overflow, trailing down her cheeks in thin lines.

"What happened, Becs?" Jesse asked with a tinge of worry still detectable in his voice.

She raised her head and hastily wiped the tears from her eyes. Beca typically hated crying around people, and she was thankful that there weren't any other patrons sitting at any nearby tables. But Jesse had been her best friend long enough that crying in front him hardly fazed her anymore. Not to mention that these were tears of joy. She'd always rationalized that happy tears were less shameful than, well, other tears.

The snippets of the conversation Jesse heard had sounded positive, but still, if Beca Mitchell was overcome with emotion, something big must have happened. His concern dissipated as soon as Beca lifted her head with a grin plastered on her face.

"Well, uh, it would seem that Atlantic Records wants to sign me. Chloe got me a deal," Beca started. She could tell Jesse wanted to say something, a congratulations, probably, but she wanted to get it all out there, so she continued. "Like, a really good deal. She said it herself. 'Precedent setting,' were her exact words. I mean, I wouldn't know a good deal from like, a dirty sock; I just want to make music. But what she was saying sounds like, really good, Jess. 'Quarter-million advance' good."

Jesse's eyes widened comically, and before she knew it, he was out of his seat, dragging her up out of her own, and wrapping her in a tight hug.

"Shit, Becs. Congratulations! I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks, Jess," she said, giving him another squeeze so he would know she really did appreciate it.

"You know what that means," Jesse mused as he reclaimed his seat.

"What?" she answered, eyeing him suspiciously.

"We have to celebrate! I'm talking a full on party. In your honor," Jesse said, his eyes glazing over, no doubt formulating plans already.

She should have seen this coming from a mile away. Unfortunately, she was decidedly NOT a fan of parties in which she was the guest of honor. Something about being the center of attention just irked her. Go figure that the career she'd chosen to pursue necessarily involved putting herself in exactly that situation.

"I think I would rather go sky-diving without a parachute," Beca grumbled before taking a sip of her coffee that had already started to get cold.

"Come on, Beca," Jesse pleaded, with a puppy-dog face that couldn't even compete with the puppy-dog eyes of a certain redheaded lawyer.

She shot him a glare that forced him to consider a different route.

"Wait! Okay, new proposal. In case you've forgotten, our other best friend is getting back from god knows where in a couple days. We could make it a combo party! A 'Congratulations/Welcome Home Party.' What do you say?"

His enthusiasm at the idea was evident, and Beca knew that he wasn't going to let this go until she agreed, so begrudgingly, she relented.

"Fine," she started, ignoring Jesse's Tiger Woods-style fist-pump, "BUT. Only if it's also a welcome home party, and only if you plan it and take care of the details, and I just get to show up."

"Agreed," he said with an exaggerated nod, extending his hand. Beca was reluctant, but shook it anyways. "Look at you. Making deals left and right. Beca Mitchell: Mover and Shaker Extraordinaire."

"Alright, cut it out before I rescind my offer," she said as she gathered up her items and rose from her seat.

"Like I said, a mover and a shaker," he responded, also standing up. "Okay, let's head out. I've got some party planning to do."

Beca let out a heavy sigh as she slung her messenger bag over her shoulder.

As the pair headed through the double doors and out onto the sidewalk, Jesse turned to her and asked, "So, Becs, what are you even going to do with all that money?"

She turned to him and smirked.

"What anyone with $250,000 would do. Cocaine, hookers, and unsound financial investments, obviously," Beca replied, walking away towards her bike without giving him a second glance.

Little did she know that later that evening, her best friend would be contacting her lawyer with regard to the party he was enthusiastically planning. After all, she had a big part in making this happen, so it's only right that she should be there to celebrate too.

* * *

Chloe returned to her hotel room that night on cloud nine, after what was arguably the biggest day of her professional career since the day she'd learned that she passed the bar.

Her first order of business was to call her best friend and tell her the big news. If anyone could appreciate the magnitude of this day, it would be Aubrey.

She shook off her blazer, kicked off her heels, and dug her phone out her purse before dropping herself on the bed.

When she unlocked her phone, there was a message waiting to be read from none other than Jesse Swanson.

[6:40 PM]: _Hey, Chloe. Way to go with getting Beca the deal with Atlantic! It's huge for her, and for you as well, I bet. I'm actually going to be planning a party in her honor to celebrate, and I'm sure she'd love it if you were there._

Her cheeks flushed as she though about Beca being excited about her presence, and she sent a reply thanking Jesse for the invite and asking him when the party would be taking place. A response came just a few minutes later

[7:56 PM]: _It'll be this Saturday night, and the time is still TBD_

[7:57 PM]: Great! I'm not flying back to New York until next week, so I'll be there :)

[7:57 PM]: _Awesome, I'll text you before then to give you the details._

Chloe was definitely looking forward to spending some time around Beca in a non-professional setting. Though, admittedly, she was nervous about what it would be like to hang out with her, probably while under the influence of alcohol. Would she be able to reign in her emotions and keep herself under control?

Before she could get too far into her own head, she remembered why she'd even gotten her phone out to begin with.

She swiped through her phone until she found the appropriate contact and waited for her best friend to answer the phone. It was 11:00 PM on the east coast, and Chloe would bet her entire savings account that she was in the middle of the overly-complicated, far too involved "Posen Nightly Skin Care Regimen," as Aubrey called it. She would never be able to understand how anyone could maintain a schedule as strictly as her best friend stuck to hers. But if anyone could do it, it would be Aubrey Posen.

Just as she was about to end the call and save her news for the following day, Aubrey picked up.

"Chloe, what's wrong?"

Chloe chuckled at her best friend's concern. "Nothing's wrong, Bree. I just wante-"

Aubrey cut her off with a groan before she spoke, "Chloe, this better be important. I was right in the middle of the Posen Nightly Skin Care Regimen!"

Chloe didn't even bother holding in her laughter.

 _Like clockwork. Ten points to Hufflepuff!_

"Don't worry, Bree. I wouldn't dare interrupt the Regimen unless I had big news. And I do have very big news."

"What's up, Chlo," Aubrey asked, her voice softening.

"Well, I may have locked down a deal for Beca today," Chloe responded, her voice full of excitement.

"No way! That's awesome, Chloe. You're officially forgiven for interrupting the Regimen. Tell me about the deal," Aubrey responded, her enthusiam matching Chloe's own.

"So, it's a one album producer deal with Atlantic Records, with two options to extend if sales reach a certain milestone. Not a bad Term, obviously, but get this, they're going to give her 250 as an advance against royalties, gave her 17 points, and offered to give her complete creative control, amongst other things," Chloe rushed out, anxious to hear what Aubrey had to say.

"No fucking way! Chloe! That's incredible. I mean, Beca has a GRAMMY now, yes, but still, she's only been on the scene for what..." Aubrey trailed off, clearly astonished.

"Like, 2 years," Chloe finished. She heard Aubrey's loud exhale float through the phone. Chloe was incredibly thankful that she had someone close to her who could understand the specifics and the lingo of the work she did, but who could also understand the personal significance that it held for her.

"Speaking of Beca," Aubrey said, "what did she say? What is even going on with that situation? What are you going to do?"

"Slow down there, Bree. Okay, so, about our...situation. We haven't really talked about it yet. I still don't know what to do about the whole thing. I mean, you know how I feel about her, you've been hearing about it for years. So I guess we'll figure it out somehow. But anyway, I let her know as soon as the offer came through. I don't really think she knows exactly how good the deal is, but she sounded excited. Honestly, I think she was kind of in shock."

Before Aubrey could respond, Chloe remembered that she had bigger news to share with her best friend and an idea popped in to her head.

"Oh! Uh, Bree, I have something else to tell you..." Chloe said, biting her lip.

"Seriously, after all that, you have more news?"

"Yeah. How would you feel about coming out here this weekend for Beca's celebration party thing and to help me with some apartment hunting?" Chloe asked, squeezing her eyes shut in anticipation of her friend's response.

"I mean, I'll have to check my schedule to see what I've got going on for this weekend, I really could do with a par-...CHLOE! Did you say apartment hunting?!" Aubrey screeched through the phone.

"Yeah," Chloe said quietly, "I went to Mr. Oberfeld with the deal points after I called Beca with the news. He was, uh, very impressed and...and he offered me a position as a senior associate in the LA office right there, on the spot."

"Chlo, I just...I don't even know what to say. I'm so fucking proud of you. You've worked really hard, and you earned it."

Chloe couldn't help the tears that spilled from her eyes at Aubrey's encouragements. How the hell was she going to be able to function with her best friend 3,000 miles away? She wiped them away with her sleeve, and decided that this wasn't the time to dwell on that. She should be nothing but happy that she was finally achieving her goals.

"Thanks, Bree. It's a good feeling. Really good," Chloe answered, her voice still wavering with unshed tears.

"Well, obviously, I'll be there this weekend then, I don't care what's on my schedule. I'll book a flight before I go to sleep," Aubrey answered resolutely.

"You're the best, Bree. I can't wait to see you; I've missed you too much already!"

"Hey, it's not very often your best friend closes a kick-ass deal and gets a promotion all in one day."

"True," Chloe said with a giggle, "Okay, I'll let you get back to the Regimen. Can't have that mask getting stuck on your face permanently."

"Alright, good night, Chloe. And congratulations! I always knew you could do it."

"Night, Bree. See you soon!" Chloe responded, ending the call.

Before she went to sleep that night, Chloe already had her laptop opened and had begun bookmarking pages with potential leads on apartments in her price range. Not long after, her eyes began to droop, the events of the day finally weighing on her. She set her laptop on the nightstand and flopped back onto pillow.

 _Is this seriously happening? I'm moving to LA?_

* * *

 **So, there we have it. Next chapter will feature the party, the appearance of the other "mystery" guest of honor. OoOoOo. But, I'm sure all of you are smart enough to guess who it will be pretty easily.**

 **Here's hoping the next update won't take so long! Thanks to everyone who's read, favorited, followed, and reviewed. We're almost at 150 followers for this story, which is, frankly, way more than I ever expected. So thank you, thank you, thank you!**

 **Remember, reviews are an author's crack, basically. So please feed my habit.**


	9. Bowties and R Kelly

**A/N: Again, sorry for the wait.**

 **In case you've forgotten, Chloe has recently locked down a very lucrative producing contract for Beca, Jesse is throwing her a congratulations combined with a mystery guest's "welcome back party," and Aubrey is coming to visit Chloe in LA.**

* * *

Saturday afternoon arrived, and Chloe was fighting a losing battle against traffic on the 405. Aubrey had texted her the night before to give the redhead the details on her flight, which was due to land in 20 minutes. Unfortunately, the GPS she'd been following indicated that she wouldn't get to LAX for another 40 minutes, and Aubrey was one of those people who believed that being on time amounted to being late. She hoped that the deplaning process and a wait at the baggage claim would allow her to catch up on the time she was losing.

She was wrong.

While she was still 15 minutes from the airport, the music she'd been listening to was interrupted by the ringing of her phone. She clicked the button on the steering wheel to accept the call via Bluetooth, and winced as Aubrey's voice filled the car.

"Hey, Chlo! I landed and got my bag. I'm outside," the disembodied voice chirped.

"Hi, Aubrey. Listen, I'm not quite to the airport yet. I guess what they say about traffic in Los Angeles is true. But I'll be there as soon as I can," Chloe said apologetically.

"That's fine. I'll entertain myself with some Candy Crush," Aubrey said.

"Candy Crush? You're still playing- no, I mean, that's good," Chloe chuckled out.

"What?" Aubrey questioned. Chloe could easily picture her best friend's confused expression.

"Nothing, Bree. I just didn't know people are still playing Candy Crush, is all," Chloe replied amusedly. "Anyway, what terminal should I come to?"

There was a slight pause as Aubrey presumably looked around for any indication of her whereabouts.

"Terminal 6, I believe," Aubrey answered.

"Sounds good! I'll be there soon. Get ready for the biggest hug you've ever experienced!"

"Alright, Chlo. See you in a bit," Aubrey replied before disconnecting the call.

Ten minutes later, Chloe pulled in to the circus that was LAX on a Saturday. She'd been able to put the pedal to the metal after getting off the freeway and actually beat the time her rental car's GPS had approximated, even if she was still _technically_ late picking up her best friend.

As she pulled into Terminal 6, Chloe spotted a blonde standing along the curb with perfect posture and oversized sunglasses focusing on a cellphone, and knew she'd found Aubrey.

She parked her car, turned on her hazard lights, and popped the trunk before hopping out of the car and enveloping Aubrey in a hug so tight that she let out an honest to god wheeze.

"Air, Chloe!" Aubrey said in amusement.

"Sorry, Bree! I warned you," Chloe answered sheepishly.

"It's alright. But we should probably get a move on," Aubrey said, noticing the cops and other drivers eyeing them with annoyance.

"Right." Chloe sprung into action, grabbing Aubrey's suitcase and heaving it into the trunk, while Aubrey thanked her and got into the passenger seat.

As soon as they were both settled in the car, Chloe programmed the GPS to take them back to Chloe's hotel and turned up the radio.

"So, how was your flight?" Chloe questioned.

"Oh, you know screaming kids kicking the back of my seat, creepy old guy hitting on me half the time...the usual," Aubrey replied with displeasure.

Chloe took a glance at Aubrey and knew from the grin on her face that she wasn't actually upset.

"But it was completely worth it to finally be in sunny LA with my best friend," Aubrey added, her gaze fixed out the window. "Seriously, Chlo. I can't believe you're actually going to be living here now. There are palm trees!" she finished enthusiastically, pointing out the rows of towering palm trees lining the exit of LAX.

"I know, right?!" Chloe exclaimed, wiggling her butt in the seat as much as the restricting seatbelt would allow. "You don't think I'm making the wrong decision though, right? I mean, this all happened really fast," Chloe asked in a much more contemplative tone.

"I don't think so," Aubrey started. "You obviously deserve the promotion, and I think that the west coast suits you. And this is Hollywood, Chloe. This place is literally where the industry you've dreamed of working in is centered. Plus, this is the perfect time in your life for a move like this. You don't have a spouse or a family to worry about, and I think that big changes like this are healthy." Aubrey moved her gaze from the scenery outside to look at the redhead, who glanced back at her momentarily.

"And besides, if you spend some time here and you end up unhappy, there's no reason you couldn't just move back to NYC with your old friend Aubrey," the blonde added with a smile.

"You're totally correct. What do I really have to lose, right?" Chloe responded, visibly brightening.

"And there's also a tiny music producer here who could make the move really interesting," Aubrey offered, a cheeky grin plastered on her face.

Chloe took one hand off the wheel to swat in her best friend's general direction, her cheeks tinged with pink. "Shut up, Bree!"

With that, they were on their way back to Downtown Los Angeles to find food and get ready for the party they'd be attending that evening.

* * *

It was a few minutes after 9:00 PM when Beca's Uber pulled up to the curb outside the nightclub that Jesse had chosen as the venue for her "celebration soiree," as he called it. She considered driving, but figured that if she was to be a co-guest of honor, she was going to need to drink, and that an Uber would serve her purposes best.

Earlier in the day, Jesse had texted Beca, simply telling her when and where to arrive, and that she could bypass the line to get in by letting the bouncer know she was here for a private event.

She took a deep breath and stuffed her hands in her pockets, sidling up to the bouncer and ignoring the dirty looks that were sent her way by the people stuck behind the rope at the front of the line.

"I'm here for a private event," she said hesitantly, slightly intimidated by the hulking biceps which stretched the sleeves of the black v-neck he wore.

"Name?" he asked, looking her up and down. She was used to this though, as a multitude of bouncers and bartenders apparently thought she was a teenager who couldn't possibly be over the age of twenty-one. On a few occasions, she was still carded when she'd try buy tickets to an rated R movie, which she still hadn't been able to live down.

"Oh, uh, Mitchell. Beca. Mitchell," she said, as the unconvinced bouncer produced a clipboard and shined his tiny flashlight over a list of names.

"Right," he said with a sigh, as if he was actually disappointed that he hadn't gotten to catch some underage kid red-handed. "Your event's being held in the lounge, inside to the left."

She smirked at his despondence and headed inside the club, spotting a velvet curtain to the left, which no doubt was the entrance to the private room Jesse had booked.

Not a second after moving the curtain aside and stepping into the lounge, Beca found herself trapped in the arms of a tall human, with her head smushed into, admittedly, pillowy breasts. With her hands still firmly tucked in her pants pockets, there was nothing to do but submit to the unsolicited bear hug.

"Miss me, Beefcakes?" the person's voice sounded, from somewhere above her. Beca groaned at the nickname. Years had passed since the horrible moniker was adopted, and Beca still couldn't shake the nickname. Every time she heard it, her head throbbed with a phantom hangover. On the night in question, Beca had managed to down nearly her own bodyweight in whiskey, and after having had enough of her best friends teasing her "delicate" stature, she'd proclaimed that she was going to start lifting and drinking protein shakes, and that she'd be "beefy" before they knew it. The proclamation only caused her friends to double over in laughter and thus, "Beefcakes" was born.

The offending human released her from the bear hug, but kept her hands in a firm grip on Beca's shoulders.

"Don't look so happy to see me there, Beca. It's not like I've been gone for a whole year or anything."

Beca smirked and removed the hands from her shoulders one by one. "Couldn't have made it two, Stace? It was pretty peaceful here while you were God knows where."

Stacie narrowed her eyes at Beca in a mock glare before she answered. "And here I thought I might get a proper welcome home from my best friend," Stacie said, turning as if she were about to walk away.

Before she could take more than two steps, Beca grabbed Stacie's wrist and pulled the other brunette into a rarely seen genuine hug. "I did miss you, Conrad. Welcome back," Beca said quietly, as if she might be in trouble if she was overheard.

Stacie's eyes were wide with surprise when Beca pulled away. "Holy shit, maybe I should have made it a six-month trip. I've clearly missed something big if I get a voluntary hug from Beca Mitchell," Stacie said, amusement clear in her voice.

"Whatever," Beca replied, giving her friend a playful shove to the shoulder. "Now come with me to the bar. I need shots if I'm going to have to experience this night."

The pair made their way across the room to the private bar, and ordered 2 rounds of bourbon a piece.

As they took a moment between shots, Beca looked around the room, taking in the atmosphere. She was actually pretty impressed with Jesse's choice of venue. The room was decorated in a lush Baroque manner, with a gorgeous chandelier hanging from the ceiling. There were also a number of comfy-looking leather sofas for those who would want a break from the small dance floor which was located at the center of the room. The dim purple lighting and modern music complemented the aesthetics of the room better than Beca would have expected. And much to her relief, the fact that they were in a private room meant that there could still be a feeling of intimacy in the room, but not the same sweaty, unavoidable intimacy that the bodies packed tightly in the main area of the club were likely experiencing.

She turned back to Stacie, who was unabashedly flirting with the bartender. Not that Beca was surprised. Stacie was a master of turning the most innocent interactions into moments fueled with tension. Beca had a feeling if she tried the same thing, it would turn out painfully awkward, but it worked for Stacie, so who was she to judge?

At that moment, Jesse found his way over to Beca, and wrapped her in a hug of his own. "Glad you made it, Becs. I was worried you were going to 'suddenly not feel so well,' or 'have a mountain of laundry to fold,'" he said, air quoting her most frequent (and shamelessly transparent) excuses for getting out of plans.

"Well, you did say it was going to be an open bar. Have you ever known me to miss out on one of those," she quipped. "And I might have actually wanted to see Stacie, but don't you dare tell her I said that."

At the sound of her name, Stacie turned back to them, and raised an eyebrow. "If you didn't want me to hear, maybe you should speak a little more quietly."

"I assumed you were preoccupied with Mr. Rico Suave behind the bar," Beca replied with a frown.

"Who, him?" Stacie questioned, glancing at the bartender who'd moved on to pour drinks further down the bar. At Beca's nod, she continued, "Oh, no. I just figured that since I'm back in the States, I needed to flex my muscles a bit and see if I lost any of my game with American guys while I was abroad. I didn't, in case you were wondering."

When Beca grimaced, Stacie only responded with a wink.

Jesse chuckled at them, glad to see the dynamic duo back together. "I say we toast to the reunion of the wolfpack," he said, slapping a hand on both of their backs.

Both of them nodded, grinning. Beca and Stacie still had a shot left to drink, so Jesse moved to face the bar and get one for himself, but was cut short when Stacie put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'll do it," she said.

In a record breaking 30 seconds, Jesse had a shot in his hand. Facing his friends, he raised his glass. "We're the three best friends that anyone could have," he heralded in a sing-song voice.

"And we'll never, ever, ever, ever, ever leave each other," the girls responded in unison, raising their glasses aloft.

The three clinked their glasses, and downed their shots, the liquor burning pleasantly as it trailed down their throats.

As she set her empty glass on the bar top, Beca couldn't help but smile. Jesse, Stacie, and herself were an unlikely trio. But somehow, their personalities blended well together and thus, the wolfpack had formed. She loved Jesse, but she sure as hell was happy to have Stacie back in the mix after a full year of just him.

Forty-five minutes and quite a few drinks later, Beca made her way to the dance floor surrounded with Jesse and Stacie, some other "friends" who she considered to be more acquaintances than anything else, along with a number of people she'd never seen before. She figured they were either people in the industry that Jesse had invited just as a show of goodwill, or people here to welcome Stacie back to the States.

Typically, she wouldn't be caught dead on a dance floor. For a DJ and music producer, one would think she'd be capable of moving her body along with the beat. But unfortunately, Sober Beca's dancing was usually a mess of flailing arms, finger snapping, and inept shuffling (see: Kevin James in the movie Hitch).

But Sober Beca wasn't here right now, having gone to sleep for the night when Beca decided to take full advantage of the open bar. And that is how she found herself where she was at that moment, with a bourbon and coke in one hand, the other resting across the front of some blonde whose back was flush against Beca's front, their hips moving together to the beat of the song playing throughout the room.

Just as the nameless blonde turned around to face Beca, she felt a tap on a shoulder and Jesse's voice in her ear. "Beca, I think there's someone who'd like to talk to you."

"I'm a bit busy with...this young lady, as you can see," Beca huffed. As she turned around to face Jesse, but her gaze fell over her shoulder to spot where she caught a glimpse of the red hair that occupied some part of her mind at any given moment of the day.

Her drink nearly slipped from her grasp when she saw that the hair was attached Chloe Beale herself. Through the light haze of the alcohol in her system, Beca could see Chloe looking in her direction with displeasure written all over her face, though her gaze softened when their eyes locked.

"Oh," she said simply, moving away from the blonde and towards Chloe without another word.

* * *

Chloe, with Aubrey at her side, watched as Beca approached them. Her annoyance at the way the blonde had been so physically close to Beca dissipated with every step she took. In fact, the slight sway in her gait as she made her way towards them made Chloe chuckle, but only earned a scoff and an unimpressed "Apparently she can't hold her liquor any better used to," from Aubrey.

Chloe was taken aback when Beca walked straight at her with a goofy smile and promptly threw her arms around Chloe's neck, speaking softly into her ear, "I didn't know you were coming. I'm glad you're here." Chloe couldn't help but shiver when Beca's breath ghosted over her skin.

She was fairly certain that this was the first hug the two of them had ever shared and she wasn't about to let it go to waste. She wrapped her arms around the brunette's waist and replied in an equally quiet voice, giving her a light squeeze. "Wouldn't miss it for the world." She definitely didn't miss the sharp inhale Beca took when she spoke.

They separated when Aubrey cleared her throat, breaking their moment. Chloe looked at her and shrugged, while Beca surveyed the blonde for a moment before adopting the Beca Mitchell Smirk that, apparently, worked on 100% functionality even when drinking.

"Aubrey. Fancy seeing you here," she said, extending her hand for the blonde to take, causing Aubrey's eyebrows to raise. "Oh, come on, Aubrey. I wash my hands after I use the bathroom and everything. You're not going to catch anything," Beca continued, seemingly amused at the blonde's skepticism.

Aubrey took Beca's outstretched hand and gave a quick shake before saying, "I suppose congratulations are in order. Chloe got you an excellent deal."

At the mention of her name, Chloe saw a dopey grin slide onto Beca's face and couldn't help but feel a tinge of affection, and a small amount of pride that she had that kind of effect on the brunette.

Before any of them could get another word in, Chloe heard a smooth voice speaking to the three of them.

"Well, well, well. This is just a regular old Barden reunion, isn't it?"

A slender brunette came into view, and stopped beside Beca, stretching her hand out to Chloe, who recognized her as Stacie Conrad, a Bella who'd joined during her and Aubrey's senior year.

Chloe shook it with a smile, and greeted her. "It's nice to see you, Stacie!"

"I'd say that the pleasure of seeing you here is all mine, but I'm pretty certain the pleasure is all Beca's here," Stacie said mischievously, dropping her left forearm onto Beca's right shoulder.

Chloe giggled as Beca swatted Stacie's arm off her, her brows furrowing as she muttered a "Fuck you," to her friend.

"Stacie?" she heard Aubrey say from beside her. Chloe glanced at her best friend, and she saw the blonde's throat bob as her eyes roamed Stacie's figure.

She couldn't really blame Aubrey. Stacie's form-fitting red dress stopped at her mid-thigh, and the heels she wore only served to lengthen the brunette's lithe legs.

But the redhead only had eyes for the smaller brunette, who was looking tantalizingly dapper this evening. Chloe took in Beca's attire from her feet up to the brown tresses that fell over her shoulders. Beca was clad in black wingtips, dark skinny jeans that looked like they may as well have been painted on, a crisp grey button up whose sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, along with black suspenders which, by themselves, caused a surge of heat to shoot through Chloe's body.

Chloe wondered if Beca knew that this was the exact aesthetic that made Chloe's knees weak; the only thing that could have made it more perfect would be a black bow tie. But Chloe was fairly certain that she hadn't ever told anyone that fact. So the fact that this was just the attire Beca chose to wear made her think very, very unprofessional thoughts.

Stacie responded to Aubrey's greeting, jarring Chloe from her imagination. Her eyes regained focus, and she saw Beca staring at her with a raised eyebrow and a damned smirk on her face.

 _Busted._

"It's been a while, Captain," Stacie said with a wolfish grin, drinking in the form of the woman in front of her. She once again extended a hand, which Chloe watched Aubrey grab eagerly.

"What- what are you doing here," Aubrey croaked, causing Chloe to raise an eyebrow. Aubrey winced, and tried to recover. "I just mean, I wasn't expecting to see you here," she said in a more steady voice, her back straightening.

Stacie smirked, and spoke directly to Aubrey. "Well, this happens to be my party, Posen."

"But, I though that this was Beca's..." Aubrey said confusedly.

"It is, but this is also a welcome back party. I just got back from overseas. We're co-guests of honor, as it were," she said, cutting Aubrey off.

"I see. Were you vacationing, or something," Aubrey asked, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

Chloe's eyes bounced between the two, curious as to the relationship between the two. She'd heard Aubrey mention Stacie Conrad a few times, but hadn't really spent any time around the two of them together.

"No, I was working, actually. I'm a nurse, so I spent a year in South Sudan with Doctors Without Borders," Stacie replied.

"That's very..." _sexy_ "admirable. I didn't know you were a nurse," Aubrey said, gulping audibly.

"Yeah, well, I figured my dreams as a model weren't very realistic. Plus, I'd rather be doing something worthwhile," Stacie said with a genuine smile.

"You definitely could have been a model," Aubrey said, her eyes widening the farthest Chloe had ever seen them when the blonde realized what she'd said.

"Okayyyyy, well that's enough of that," Beca said, eyeing the pair warily, earning an affectionate smile from Chloe. "Come on, Chlo," she continued, "let's get you a drink. You need to be on my level."

When Beca grabbed Chloe's hand to lead her to the bar, the redhead tried to tamp down the butterflies raging in her stomach and ignore the way that Beca's hand fit perfectly in her own.

* * *

After an extended sit at the bar in which Beca was insistent on feeding Chloe a number of different drinks she thought the redhead might like (she did), Chloe was feeling light and exhilarated in the brunette's presence. Just watching Beca babble about this or that made Chloe's whole night.

Chloe wasn't exactly listening to what Beca was saying, but was more just...looking at Beca's face. She could probably sit here for while just observing the brunette's visage. Then, Beca leaned so close to her that she was worried that the brunette might be doing a slo-mo fall from her bar stool.

But Chloe was more than pleasantly surprised when Beca stopped when her face reached to the side of Chloe's own, her mouth just inches from Chloe's skin.

"Dance with me," Beca said, her voice low.

Chloe leaned back to look at Beca, and found earnestness in her eyes and an endearing grin on her face.

And who was Chloe to say no to that?

And thanks to the drinks that Beca had so kindly procured for her, Chloe grabbed Beca's hand and tugged her towards the dance floor.

Beca was nothing short of elated when Chloe agreed to dance with her. All she wanted to do was to find a reason to be close to the redhead. Not like, in a pervy way or anything, but she genuinely was just happy that she could spend time with her. And if their bodies would end up closer than they've ever been, well...that would just be a bonus.

As the pair found their place on the dance floor, the song changed from some upbeat pop song and transitioned into R. Kelly's Ignition (Remix). If one of her hands wasn't still clasped in the redhead's, she would have brought them together and offered a thanks to whatever gods were above.

Chloe had apparently found a suitable spot on the floor, because she stopped walking and whipped around to face Beca, letting her hand drop.

For a few moments, Beca was frozen still as the redhead began to swing her hips along with the beat. When she regained her senses, Beca joined her and thanks to the alcohol in her, her hips also began to move with the rhythm of the beat.

Her eyes roved over Chloe's frame greedily. The redhead wore a black skirt, leaving much of her legs available for Beca's viewing pleasure. But again, not in a pervy way.

Oh, who was she kidding, of course in a pervy way. Chloe Beale was a redheaded goddess, after all.

On top, Chloe wore a sleeveless turquoise shirt with a dip that delved far enough for just the slightest bit of cleavage to be seen.

"My eyes are up here, Mitchell," Chloe said playfully.

 _Busted._

When Beca looked up again, Chloe's face was only inches from her own.

Beca gulped. The intensity she found in the redhead's eyes spurred Beca into grabbing the redhead's hips and pulling Chloe against her. She smirked when she heard the hitch in Chloe's breath.

 _Now I'm not tryin' to be rude_

 _But hey, pretty girl, I'm feelin' you_

 _The way you do the things you do_

 _Reminds me of my Lexus Coupe_

 _That's why I'm all up in your grill_

 _Tryin' to get you to a hotel_

 _You must be a football coach_

 _The way you got me playin' the field_

Sober Beca would be an absolute mess right now, but the Beca in this moment was living for the way that her and Chloe's hips moved together. She was momentarily disappointed when Chloe disconnected their hands ( _when had they even grabbed each other's hands again?_ ), but was much more enthused when Chloe turned her body so that Chloe's back was pressed into Beca's front. And, _Oh God_ , Beca hadn't yet seen the back of Chloe's shirt. Well, the _lack_ of a back to Chloe's shirt. A majority of the redhead's back was left bare, only a thin black bandeau covering a strip of her back. Beca fought back a groan, and could feel the beginnings of a familiar throbbing sensation at the apex of her thighs.

 _It's the remix to ignition_

 _Hot and fresh out the kitchen_

 _Mama rolling that body_

 _got every man in here wishing_

 _Sipping on coke and rum_

 _I'm like so what I'm drunk_

 _It's the freaking weekend baby_

 _I'm about to have me some fun_

Her hands rested on Chloe's hips as the redhead swayed in a manner that she could only describe as hypnotizing. She stepped forward to close the miniscule amount of space that had remained between them. The redhead, in a sinful move, reached a hand up and behind Beca's head laying it to rest on the back of her neck.

There was nothing that Beca could do but to move her hands along the redhead's body. One of them went to rest atop Chloe's hand which was positioned on her stomach across Chloe's stomach, the other slowly running up and down the redhead's exposed side.

Beca was in heaven. Here she thought she'd have to show up tonight and, yes, see Stacie, which was lovely, but she also figured she'd end up making small talk with rando's or flirting with some girl she didn't give a shit about and wouldn't have had the desire to take home.

But here she was with fucking Chloe Beale, grinding to the sexiest song Beca could think of. Her hands were on Chloe. Chloe's ass was pressed firmly into her crotch, swaying wantonly.

Chloe moved the hand on her stomach from underneath Beca's, and pushed it into her own auburn curls. When she did, Beca inhaled a whiff of the redhead's perfume, and this time, she couldn't hold in her groan. Whatever she wore, it made Beca's mouth water, and another region of her body began to produce its own moisture.

 _Now it's like murder she wrote_

 _Once I get you out them clothes_

 _Privacy is on the door_

 _Still they can hear you screaming more_

 _Girl I'm feeling what you feeling_

 _No more hoping and wishing_

 _I'm bout to take my key and_

 _Stick it in the ignition_

Chloe must have heard her, because the redhead whipped around in Beca's hold with a ferocity Beca had never witnessed in her eyes, and leaned forward whispering in her ear.

"This song. It's one of my jams. My lady jams," Chloe husked.

 _...Lady...jams? OH. Ohhh. Oh no._

That was the final straw for Beca. She grabbed the redhead's hand, and pulled her towards the private patio that was attached to the lounge.

When they exited to the outside, Beca was relieved to find it empty. She led Chloe to a darkened portion of the patio and pushed Chloe against the brick wall, making sure to be semi-gentle.

She wasn't sure what is was...maybe the alcohol, maybe the redhead who was so fucking _sexy_ on that dance floor, maybe all the years that she'd been imagining this scenario in her head, maybe all of the above, but she felt particularly bold this evening.

Before anything else, she had to get her fill of the redhead's perfume. So she placed her hands on the wall behind them, one each side of Chloe's head, and dipped her head into the space connecting Chloe's neck to her shoulders and inhaled. In the back of her mind, she hoped that wasn't creepy, but apparently the redhead didn't mind, as she let out a breathy sigh when Beca exhaled.

"Beca," the redhead gasped, breathing heavily.

She took that as a good sign, and just barely brushed her lips over Chloe's neck. The almost inaudible moan Chloe released spurred her on. She took her right hand off the wall and placed it on the redhead's back, groaning as she moved it, reveling in the the expanse of skin under her hand, feeling the muscles in Chloe's back tense.

Her lips moved farther up Chloe's neck, planting open mouth kisses over the smooth skin she discovered. With each kiss, Chloe let out a tantalizing breath, which caused the throbbing in her center to build, until she was sure that her own wetness was staining the panties she wore.

When Beca reached her jawline, Chloe's hands moved from her back down to grab the flesh of Beca's ass, caressing it and squeezing gently.

Then she felt the redhead reach into her back pocket and grab whatever was lying inside.

Confused, she pulled away from the redhead only to be met with Chloe eyeing the piece of fabric in her hand. She looked at Chloe with a quirked eyebrow, until the redhead practically growled, "Bowtie."

Beca nodded, and told the redhead it had been too constricting. Apparently, Chloe appreciated her neckwear, because she took the and threw it around Beca's neck on top of her collar, taking each side of the untied bowtie in a hand, and pulled on it, bringing Beca's face just inches from her own.

She stared into the blue eyes she'd been slowly drowning in for years and gulped. Chloe eyes flicked between her own before dropping to her lips, and finally, the redhead leaned in, albeit painfully slowly.

Beca closed her eyes, awaiting the feel of Chloe's plump lips on her own, when she heard the creaking of the patio door, and two voices call out to them.

"Beca!"

"Chloe!"

 _Fuck._

* * *

 **A/N: Another chapter comes to a close. Hope that has sated you thirsty Bechloe fans for the time being.**

 **As always, thanks to everyone who is reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing.**

 **Please let me know what you think! It makes my day.**


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